


Losing You. Losing Me.

by emotionalcello



Series: Pining Aaron Hotchner [5]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempt at Humor, Blood and Injury, Crying, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Guns, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Mention of child traficking, Minor Violence, Past Child Abuse, Repressed Memories, Romance, bad foster homes, mention of selfharm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:47:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 41,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28382736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emotionalcello/pseuds/emotionalcello
Summary: I was doing so well with all the fluff, sadly, this one does have a plot, and it's a case fic..... and it's hella angsty, and now with Chris's back story but it's not too in-depth of it I think, just as far as the case and the plot!Please see the tags!and tell me if I missed something, please.All of Aaron's partners always gotinvolved with Aaron's job. Haily and Jack died, Beth becomes blackmail, and Chris is no exception. Aaron is on a case. These are sensitive hours, bodies are piling, and the only key to the unsub's profile is Chris. As a detective, Chris volunteers knowing that his long-buried past needs to unfold, long years of childhood trauma that never gets to heal. Aaron swore not to lose Chris, but it seems like he will.It's already completed in my word doc, just need to grammar check it. I'm posting a chapter every day.
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/Original Character(s), Aaron Hotchner/Original Male Character(s), Aaron Hotchner/Other(s), Aaron hotchner/Kristianto "Chris" Hamlyn
Series: Pining Aaron Hotchner [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1600936
Comments: 88
Kudos: 17





	1. Heyeyeyeyea What's Going On????

**Author's Note:**

> Yeaaaaaaaah...... I'm angsty at heart, I'm never much a comedian to begin with but I tried ya know?
> 
> So here it is. The plot maybe has holes and kinda ridiculous. **Please see the tags!**

Chris is thinking dreamily of Aaron, not an abnormal occasion for Chris. It’s just that this year’s valentine they get to celebrate unlike last year's interference with Sean.

They didn’t do anything too strenuous. No fireworks, no limousine, no fancy dinner, no obnoxious declaration of love. Aaron surprised him in front of the precinct, then they go home, fuck, cuddle, and make meals together. Though there are no basic valentine's surprises, they didn’t evade all valentine's days tradition. Aaron surprises him in bed too. His boyfriend keeps surprising him day by day despite the long-distance relationship. People would think that Aaron is a stiff, traditional, prude man. Oh, they’re so wrong... and only Chris knows how flexible Aaron really is and it was......

That was a few days ago, but Chris is still blushing at the memory. Who knew that Aaron is sweet as a diabetic giant gummy bear on the streets and a beast on the sheets. Chris is almost salivating at the memory yet again, but he closes his mouth before he tainted the crime scene.

Maybe he shouldn’t think dreamily of Aaron whilst he’s in a blood bath of a corridor.

“Whoa! Did someone tried to recreate the Shining here or what’s happening?” Jake Peralta quips, coffee in hand, a default goofy smile on his face.

CSI giving them a go, and they pass the security line, away from the enquiring people at the other end of the hall held back by officers.

“Nah, just a lunatic that’s been watching too much Hannibal,” Chris replies.

“Oooh?” Jake sings excitedly.

They’re well aware that someone just died, gruesomely so, but Jake, Chris, and most of the detectives in 99th precint are dulled from grief by now and (un)healthily coping with enthusiasm to crack a puzzle and comedy.

“Missing spleens? Missing heart? Wait, amputated thigh? Did the culprit left a clay roasted thigh?” Jake says quickly, the caffeine seems to hit him already.

Speaking of caffeine, Chris would trade the so-called spleen for a coffee right now, but he’s cutting back. These dark circles won’t fade themselves.

“Nothing like that, the body is mangled though, come look.”

The blood spatter comes from the room at the end of the hall, the one with the best view and light. The victim is mid-upper class. Cams disrupted, not that dumb of a killer. The man brings home a few people according to the neighbors. Jake and Chris analyze the place, taking an hour going around the room, down the hall, and making theories. They got out there with a few things needing a follow-up. Then they go to the precint for the autopsies.

“Wait, let me see that,” Amy takes the report off Chris’ hand after Jake shares the information of their brand new case. “There’s a similar case like this in the 84th precinct!”

“How did you know that?” Chris asks.

“She reads case files in America at weekends,” Jake informs, “It’s now our routine after boinking.”

“I should say TMI, but I’m not surprised at this point and it’s alarming,” Haily chirped from her desk.

Rosa peeks from Amy’s shoulder, “I handled a similar case three months ago. Mangled body, blood splattered to the halls.”

“Ooh, a pattern!” Jake cheers, “Guess it’s a job for-”

“Looks like it’s a job for your boyfriend, Chris,” Rosa cuts, “Pattern, overkill, chances are we’re dealing with a serial killer.”

“I was just about to say it’s a job for the best detective of the century Jake Peralta, but yeah, sure, Chris’ boyfriend,” Jake smiles awkwardly, showing all his front teeth. He wants the case for himself, Jake likes being a badass that solves hard cases, and he’s now making the funniest face.

While Chris agrees that it’s a job for the BAU team, Chris knows something they don’t. Aaron is currently handling a case in Virginia, all hands on deck. Aaron can’t even spare a text for these three days.

“We can ask, but Aaron’s team is currently busy, so they can’t fast response.”

“Ain’t nobody got time for that!” Jake exclaims excitedly.

Then they agree that Chris and Jake should try to do this one on their own. They wrap it up, as it’s getting late. Chris and Jake got a lot to do tomorrow morning. Chris is walking back with Haily, and she’s giving some mischievous glances at Chris.

“Spit it out,” Chris says, hands on his pockets fumbling with his keys. Hayley never hesitates to ask him anything before.

“You haven’t talked about Aaron in two days,” Hayley says, staring him down with her cerulean blues, Chris swore he thought she had them done. But no, they’re just naturally _that_ beautiful.

“So what?” Chris mumbles, cheeks heating, it’s not that he could say that what he’s thinking of Aaron when all thoughts have been NSFW.

“Oh, I see,” Haily says knowingly with her pink glossed smirk. “You guys got a little kinky at Valentine’s day, don’t ya!”

Chris felt his neck burn, but there’s no hiding from his best friend, “Stop! You’re making me think of it again!”

Chris is blushing over to Haily’s place talking about his Valentine’s day. Who knew that a retelling can make you feel faintly similar to the screen you just said? Chris is smiling all over again. He hopes that whatever case Aaron is doing, he’d have the memory to cheer him up too.

++++

Meanwhile in the BAU office in Virginia. The tension is rising. Four bodies in three days, and no breadcrumbs. The unsub knows what they’re doing, either out of experience or they’re law enforcement and has been planning this.

All they have is a profile. The body is intact, but the face is mauled. Gouged eyeballs, pierced eardrums, cut-out tongue, all done while the victim is still alive. The dead body is placed in the living room with all the family pictures surrounding the body. Victims come from different backgrounds, nothing is tying them together but their similar range of age.

The team is divided into three. One team goes to the previous crime scenes, the second goes to the recent crime scene that just called in thirty minutes ago, and the third one is staying back at the office to build a profile with Garcia’s newly obtained information.

Garcia bursts in with the clacks of her heels, hair bouncing at her panic. She goes straight for their office’s screen displaying what she just gathered.

“Praise the path upon my heels I just found a connection between all our victims,” Her hands grab a remote and punch the buttons aggressively and the screens displays two faces of kids.

“Who are these kids?” JJ says, eyes widen at the children they’ve never seen before.

“These are our victims. Your technical goddess is here to bless upon her sixth sense because after background checking all five of our victims, and the last being the cherry on top. We know that they’re all adopted through different towns and foster homes but that was baloney! I’ve called the foster homes they assumed they were in, but they’re not there. These kids are not registered in their supposedly assigned foster parents. Their paper lied!” Garcia huffs angrily.

“They must’ve comes from somewhere, did someone faked the name of their foster home?” Morgan adds.

“Bingo! So I tried to find where these kids truly come from, but even my superior-tech webs have a weakness. Our victims are in their forties and thirty years ago their childhood is printed on yellowy moldy papers, and I’m at the mercy at the tact of the people responsible for digitalizing all this shit!” She pushes more buttons frantically. “So, I de-age our victims and run their faces through facial recognizing system through missing kids all over the flipping America. Thankfully I got matches, and from the papers, they’re from the same foster house.”

No one corrects Garcia’s trash talk at her state. She’s been working through nightshift fueled with caffeine. This is a big discovery, but it would’ve helped more if they can narrow down potential unsubs.

“You said they’re from the same foster home, the unsub must’ve been one of the adoptees,” Hotch says. “These crimes are punishments, whatever happens in that foster home, they’ve been holding a grudge towards the kids they’re with.”

“Why now? They’re all adopted decades ago,” JJ adds.

“Behold my liege, I’ve found your trigger,” Garcia pushes another button, and a display of a newspaper pops on the screen. “I present you, Janet and Jack Johnsons, veteran foster parents that’s been fostering for years. The newspapers from a few weeks ago called them unsung heroes of everyday lives. They rehome and rehabilitate kids to a better home. I crossed checked, and _all_ of our victims comes from their foster home. Janet is infertile, so they decide to adopt a kid and that son inspires them to foster kids. One of their sons was interviewed for the papers and... sir?”

Garcia paused, JJ and Derek look back to their chief unit who just dropped his tablet to the table. Hotch feels his hands clamming at a realization. He has heard those names before, and he’s hesitating when he shouldn’t.

“Those are Chris’s foster parents,” Hotch says, the words taste bitter on his tongue.

His colleague looks at each other in understanding woe at what this means.

“I’m sorry Hotch, we have to bring him in for questioning,” Morgan says.

“Maybe we can find someone else,” JJ sympathize, “There has to be another witness.” JJ knows that’s not possible, but she’s seeing something in Hotch’s face that he’s not aware of to say those words.

Hotch doesn’t want to call Chris. Chris tried to forget his past, he succeeding in forgetting some, and from what Hotch observed, it came with a cost. Chris’s troubled teenhood plays a big part in trying to cope with what happened, but he’s the unit chief of the BAU team and this is his job. Again, his job crosses with his private life. The last time this happens, his girlfriend was put on safety watch, previous to that, Haley and Jack were killed by the unsub.

“The unsub is on a killing spree, he’s going to kill another soon. Chris also fits the timeline of all our victims. We have no time to waste,” Aaron says before he gets to hesitate at sensitive hours.

 _And he could’ve been a victim, calling him over will protect him in the BAU office_. Hotch says that to himself so the guilt won't eat him up.

++++

Chris is whistling away while he’s making some dinner. Grilled chicken with salsa and salad with sesame seed dressing. For dessert, some dragon fruit that just arrived at his frequent Asian market. He’s in long pajama pants and Aaron’s shirt that he ~~stole~~ borrowed when Aaron last came here, which is on valentine’s day... Now he’s thinking of Valentine’s day again.

Chris buried his face on the giant Rosco doll, careful not to let his plate tip.

“How long will I keep getting giddy like this! It’s cringy at this point,” he says to the doll’s neck.

He should not have said that. A few seconds later, his sweet baby Aaron called in the voice of Hotch the FBI agent.

Chris felt there’s no air in the room. His fingers trembled and he puts down the plate that lands with a violent clink on the table. He bites his lips shut from trembling, he didn’t hear far after Hotch mentioned those goddamned names.

His teary eyes look to the side at the picture of him and Matty a few years after Matty takes him in. Chris spent his years trying to forget anything that happens before the sunshine of the man takes him into his life. Forgetting them takes years of denial and focus, since then Chris has been happy. Now he’d have to remember, and Chris feels the life he’s been rebuilding is being bulldozed from the foundation.

It’s hazy, but he can hear that Hotch is asking him to come as a witness. Even at the stillness of his voice, Hotch can’t hide everything from Chris. Hotch doesn’t want this either. Chris even more, his hands are shaking out of fear. But even Hotch doesn’t let himself stop asking Chris to come to testify, it’s his job, and Chris is a fucking detective. Chris needs to step up.

“I’ll be there in an hour.”

“I’ll pick you up by the usual station.”

Hotch hangs up, and Chris doesn’t feel like eating.

++++

Chris wants to hold Aaron’s hand, but he’s afraid that once his boyfriend feels how cold and clammy his hands are Aaron will feel even guiltier than he looks now. And Aaron already looks like a criminal on a mugshot. So when Chris sees Aaron as he steps out of the train, he hugs him instead.

Aaron whispered, “I’m sorry,” and it makes Chris feels a little stronger, for him.

Aaron is still Hotch, but in the face of Chris, he’s glad his boyfriend is not totally either one of those. When Chris lets go, Aaron holds on a few seconds longer. Chris taps his waist, calming his boyfriend understandingly. It’s like a curse now that Chris thinks about it. Aaron doesn’t have a man whore phase like Chris, _every_ partner Aaron had always got intertwined with his job. His wife and son were killed, his girlfriend was used as blackmail, now it’s Chris’s turn.

Chris is kind of flattered. He matters enough to have the curse. The shaking of his boyfriend’s fingers through his jacket is all it takes for Chris to brave this one through.

“You won’t lose me,” Chris says to Aaron, with a pat on the back.

When Aaron lets him go, Chris felt his heart fell. Like his support just left. Aaron holds his face, and Chris gets a heartbreaking glance at Aaron’s face. His boyfriend looks deathly afraid, morbidly terrified, and Chris would feel chills if Aaron didn’t kiss him.

Chris lets Aaron leads him to the car by his hand. Let him feel his hands that felt like slimy cold dead clams that have gone bad. Once in the car, Chris feels like this is the time to come clean to Aaron.

Chris had told Aaron about his foster homes and the last ones being the Chruch Matty found him in. The Johnsons were the most scarring ones, the last resort of child services because no one wants to take him. Chris had told Aaron some bits that happened there, and if not asked, he still won’t say even after this interrogation.

“Have I told you that Matty got me from a church slash orphanage?” Chris starts at the same time as the car engine does.

Aaron glances at Chris carefully before saying, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“You’re gonna hear it from Garcia anyway, and god knows no one can hide anything from Garcia,” Chris chuckles mirthlessly. Damned to hell anyone that’s considered an enemy to that woman, and Chris would give her all the high-end anti-aging serum to stay on her good side. Chris knows all his past that he tried so hard to forget will be laid right bare on the interrogation table. Better rip the bandaid off now.

“We’re going to give you pictures of victims, we’re just testing whether or not you know them. There’s a possibility that you didn’t so maybe you won’t and we’ll let you go.” Aaron is making excuses, and any lesser man would think Aaron is saying pragmatic reasoning. Chris sees clearly the manic panic underneath Aaron’s stoic face.

“From what I know of the Johnsons? It’s about time that they got a bite on their ass.”

Aaron pauses then, a face so grim Chris thought the end of the world is coming. Chris sighs, his back slumped to the seat, it sure feels like the death of _something_.

“I wasn’t transferred to that church I...” Chris felt there’s a lump in his throat, his full-body reaction to stop him from saying any more. “I ran away from the Johnsons, a hundred miles away, on foot... I didn’t know how I survived, and I don’t remember either.” _Please don’t make me remember._

They’re off to the streets, Aaron giving him the time he needs while Chris is having a little mental breakdance. The words he’s about to say haven’t left his mouth for decades, not since Matty died.

“I don’t remember a lot about my parents, not even how they look like sometimes. I just know that my dad was rich until he wasn’t, and my mom was there until she wasn’t. My dad didn’t do anything when I was taken away.”

“Who took you?” was the first thing Aaron says after ‘I’m sorry’. Chris didn’t tell Aaron that he was taken from his parents' house, just that his parents were unfit and child services take him. Aaron seems to see through that it wasn’t child services that took him.

“I don’t know,” Chris bit his tongue. That’s not true, he knew. He just tried to forget it, tried to not say it because he doesn’t want it to be true. If it’s not through Chris then Garcia would tell him. Either way, his reality is going to be turned upside down anyway. “Someone he sold me to,” He finally admits and instantly feels nauseous. Chris can only imagine how fully being interrogated would do to him.

“You don’t have to tell me-”

“But I have to!” Chris exclaims, nails digging to the seat. “I don’t want you to know this and then pretend not to know around me. I also hate it if I don’t know how much you know. Don’t want you to walk on eggshells and playing guessing games all our lives...” Because Chris has had that type of girlfriend, and it was frustrating.

“I’m sorry,” Aaron says again, eyes on the road, and Chris can see tears pooling there.

“Baby no,” Chris scoots closer, and angle his body uncomfortably to lay his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder. “People are dying, you’re doing your job, you’re doing the right thing.”

“Shouldn’t be at the cost of your well-being,” Aaron says curtly as if it’s what he’s been what he kept inside.

Chris tightened his jaw, “I’m a detective Aaron, I can’t just sit by and watch while I could’ve helped.”

Aaron tightens the grip on his hands, they’ve stopped at a red light. Aaron still looks like he’s in despair, but when he looks at Chris, he looks.... proud.

Chris rubs soothing circles on Aaron’s chest, though the gesture helps Chris the most.

Chris continues, “I ran to the church. When they ask me where I came from, I didn’t want to mention the Johnsons, I don’t want to go back. I can’t remember where my house was then. I don’t want to tell them about my dad, I don’t want to go back to him, and I don’t want to go back to the Johnsons either... So all that I told them is that I came from Indonesia because the only thing good I remember of my mom was the night time stories she told me of her hometown. In the island of Borneo where the houses are on the green hills, a big that’s always crossed by coal carrier ships.”

Chris leans back a little to wipe his eyes. He can’t remember the face of his mom but her tan beige skin and short dark curly hair. The only memory of them smiling was in a picture by the tea room holding Chris who was a baby.

“The church named me Kristianto since it’s Christian in Bahasa.... not because Matty named me.”

The car drives on when the light is green.

“Did you ever try to find your parents?” Aaron asked softly.

“Yes,” Chris says weakly, “My dad is in jail. Life sentence, crime syndicate, no parole for 20 years. He never wrote back till he died ten years into his imprisonment. My mom is back in Indonesia. Remarried and has a big family. She doesn’t want to talk to me.”

The whole ride after is filled with silence.

++++

The nerve in Chris’s system vanished the moment he steps into Hotch’s floor, the hot room. The cubicles in the room fizz out and the people blends into the background. Down the stairs from Aaron’s office stood someone that makes Chris freezes and make reality pause.

Chris’s eyes filled with tears and his hands trembling for other reasons than his nightmares being dug out. His throat is closing up, but he manages a whimper.

“Emily?” Chris breathed.

Emily stood there awkwardly with a sorry face. Ambivalent to approach, her fingers seem to hold each other out of nervousness. She’s just like how Chris remembered her. Dark hair falls elegantly to her shoulder blades, cheekbone length bangs frame her face, and the longest natural lashes Chris had ever seen on a human.

“Chris I... I’m-”

Chris doesn’t let Emily says what’s next, he knew she’s going to say she’s sorry for some reason Chris doesn’t care about it. Chris closes their distance in two big strides and wraps his arms around her, holding tightly, praying to the deities that this is not a dream.

“Oh, Emily, you’re not dead! I’m so glad you’re not dead... Oh, thank Allah, Jesus, Buddha, Krishna, Zeus... or do they even worship Zeus, or is it just a mythology story?? I’m sorry me being sad is making me ignorant.” Chris makes an ungodly ugly sob, he hurriedly lets go of her and pull out his phone, “Please give me your number, I should’ve asked when I first met you I-”

Chris was cut short by Emily’s chuckle and her teary eyes. So many tears already and Chris hasn’t even been interrogated yet. He has a feeling that the path ahead is muddy with rain.

“It’s good to see you too, Chris,” Emily chuckles wetly, and Chris thinks that earns another hug. By the second hug, he realizes that the regular office worker is glancing at them, and the rest of the team is openly staring.

Reid doesn’t look the best. He presses his lips and goes up the stairs to the hot room next to Hotch’s office. Morgan sees him off, but stay with the rest of the team.

Chris lets her go, giving her a peck on the cheeks and left her with giggles. He shoves his phone in her hand. “Your number please.” He then faces the rest of the team. Morgan, JJ, Hotch, and Rossi, “Lead me to the room, let’s rip the bandaid now,” Chris says gallantly that only lasts like two seconds.

He doesn’t remember the whole way to the interrogation room. He didn’t question when Aaron doesn’t follow him in. He sits in a chair where suspects sit, and Chris’s seat is occupied with a meek and understanding, Spencer Reid. The look on the genius agent brings him back already.

The last time he sits in the interrogated chair he was a teenager, freshly plucked from the house of God. Matty had been sitting there interrogating him, he was the first voice that sounds reassuring and felt... safe.

Chris looks down at his clasp hands, already feeling small.

-.-.-.-

The moment he steps out of the train, he knew Chris has been flickering in and out of his sanity. Despite losing so much to his job every time his private life got dragged in, Hotch seems to loyally choose his job. How many more times Aaron has to lose his loved ones to learn that his job has always either took or chase everyone away.

Hotch clenched his fists before he can open the door and take Chris out of the interrogation room. He’s staring holes at Chris through the one-way mirror. Chris's tan complexion pales at the sight of Reid, the naturally non-threatening Reid. Chris hunched his back, eyes down and meek, completely out of character for anyone that barely knows him, but Hotch knows that Chris gets likes this once he’s into his memory holes, and only uncurl once he forgets what was troubling his mind.

Looking in, Hotch doesn’t recognize his boyfriend at all. As if the Chris he knew no longer there, but replaced by Chris from years ago, that small teenager confused and afraid of the world has been inside and never really grows up, just play pretend.

“He’s strong, Hotch,” Rossi stands beside him on the glass, “He’ll get through it.”

But Hotch knows better. Knows that this can go bad. Yet, Hotch the unit chief clenches his fists and roots his ground.

Five bodies in three and a half days, Hotch reminds himself. Not to mention that after digging out on the Johnsons, Morgan, and JJ went to fetch all three of the Johnsons’ sons to put them under protective custody only to find that they’ve been missing since the funeral. It’s different from the rest of the victim’s MO which is displayed out inside of their house. They’re likely being held captive by an enraged unsub which never translates to anything good.

Time is ticking, the unsub is on a killing spree and the police they’re working with haven’t caught wind of him. Everyone is on high alert, and the key to stopping the massacre is sitting inside the interrogation room, shaking.

Reid lays down the pictures of kids and the de-aged picture of the other victims to when they’re age 5-10. With the victims' picture, there are also pictures of missing kids in the same area of the Johnsons’ old house in the same timeline.

Chris looks at them in a hesitant glance, hands under the table, but they’re holding each other.

“Do you recognize any of them?” Reid asked.

Chris glances at them and gulped heavily. His eyes linger in one of the pictures Garcia got from the missing kids a few decades ago.

“Is he gonna be okay?” JJ asks, her eyes downturned.

“I don’t know,” Hotch says evenly.

Chris nods to two pictures. Both missing kids, none of the victims, none the one that gets adopted.

“Those two are familiar,” Chris says in almost a whisper. Reid nods and takes the other pictures.

Garcia dug in the victims’ background, and based on what year they went to school with the new family, they predicted when they were under the Johnsons. They’ve also dug every kid that had ever been under the Johnsons’ care, and categorize them on predicted years they would’ve been under their care. The kids that were in the foster home around the two Chris recognized filled the table. They all got to the Johnsons through a lot of circumstances.

Odd thing was, Chris’s name wasn’t ever in Johnson’s booking. Even after de-aging his ID, he never existed past being enrolled in an elementary school and his trace disappear when he was 9. Chris then popped up again at 14 at a church that also served as an orphanage in White Plains New York as one of the orphans.

The church orphanage was famous for keeping in troubled and abandoned children that live off the citizen’s donation. The state’s police bust the church under investigation of embezzling money but the FBI yet found a case of child molestations instead when the police asked around the citizens. Some people had tried to report it to the police but it was never taken seriously until the FBI lend a hand that day.

The 11 children housed in that church were then put in foster homes, except for Chris. One of the police there named Matty Matheson took him in to be his temporary guardian because Chris was 17, the oldest ones there, and has a low chance of getting adopted. From what Aaron knew, Chris stayed with Matty even after he turned eighteen. When Matty transferred to Washington a few months after taking in Chris, and the rest is history.

Five years at the Johnsons, three at the church, and the years of scars still show as Chris looks over the pictures.

Chris takes his time directing his frantic eyes over the pictures as Reid patiently waits. Chris’s blue eyes look back to a baby boy no older than five. His eyes look far away, before Reid moves and Chris is snapped back to reality. Quickly, Chris cleared his throat and straightened his back as he puts the picture back.

“Did you know that boy?” Reid asks considerately, yet Chris’s face twists into a distaste.

“Sh- just a kid I used to care for... I...” Chris gulped and that was all he said.

Reid takes an even breath, leaning forward slightly and look into Chris’s eyes, “What happened at the Johnsons?”

Chris stares back in an obvious grimace. His frowning lips shake slightly, “I don’t remember.” But all the profiler there knows what he’s really saying. _I don’t want to remember._

“Do you remember some more of these kids?” Reid asks, but Chris just looks at them lost. “You don’t have to be certain, just anyone that looks familiar.”

Chris lets go a shaky breath and choose a few faces carefully. Behind the mirror, JJ is marking the pictures on her pad and sends it to Garcia to see if any is in the area to put under safety.

“Can you explain how it’s like living with the Johnsons?” Because after recognizing the potential victims, it’s important now more about the unsub’s origin story through Chris.

Chris visibly tenses, his hands fumbling with each other, “They’re strict.” Reid waits for more explanations, but Chris seems to clamp shut.

“How did they treat you?”

The lips on his face had never dipped that low, they curl in absolute distaste, eyes glaring holes to his hands.

“Like cattle,” Chris hisses. “Fed barely anything and locked away until passed to the highest bidder,” Each word drips with venom, and Chris looks murderous.

Aaron felt his blood runs cold. Chris has always talked about his past foster home as a sad memory, but this is different. This is heated anger that is still burning.

The profilers there know that The Johnsons was not just a foster home. Chris now just gave them the important clues completes the picture. Chris was not registered as a foster child, that’s why Chris has no paper trails after he’s 9 years old. He picks the pictures of kids that weren’t in the Johnsons foster care but missing kids that were in the next cities.

“The Johnsons didn’t put all of the kids there for adoption, did they?” Reid gulps, coming to the same conclusion as the rest of his team, “They trafficked some of the children.”

And Chris was one of them.


	2. You should've picked Mercy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris going a little cray cray. It's a bit sad. Just Chris's childhood that isn't too happy.

Someone had pressed mute on the world because Chris’s silence after the revelation is more deafening than an explosion.

“That shouldn’t be able to happen,” JJ shakes her head, “Kids don’t just disappear out of nowhere. Child services wouldn’t let disappearing children go unchecked.”

“They do it differently three decades ago. If your kids don’t get to school nobody questioned it, especially when your parents filed bankruptcy,” Rossi says, indicating Chris’s situation.

His team knew Chris’s background from basic screening from Garcia. That his mom left to her home country without him and his dad just heartlessly sold him for cash. His dad led a mining project that handles mines from southeast Asia. He embezzled some money, got caught, and sued which led to his bankruptcy. Chris’s dad's bank accounts got a questionable amount of money when he was supposed to be bankrupt, they know now that it was how much Chris was worth.

It was a depressing amount of thousands. Garcia narrowed down to kids that lived around Virginia, they’ve been notified and under police protection.

How did this unsub get to have such information is not yet to be discovered? The unsub is intelligent and has access to a database that lets him found these kids. He’s furious, triggered by the newspaper caption that celebrates the Johnsons foster care when they’ve been smuggling children to dubious people. The news column of the Johnsons was on the fifth page, on the column reserved for ‘Unsung Heroes’.

“Chris, can you remember any kids that stuck out to you?” Reid asks. “He would be rebellious, trying to escape. The Johnsons always gave him the most punishment and he always openly hates them.”

There’s tenseness outside the interrogation room. Rossi and JJ glance at Hotch who felt his breath hitched.

“How did you escape, Chris?”

Chris snaps his eyes at Reid for the insinuation, but the genuinely tired huff from his breath indicates that he has nothing to hide.

“I don’t remember,” Chris says.

“I need you to remember.”

And that was Chris’s breaking point. His skin blanched completely pale. His eyes fluttering shut. He leans forward and holds his face on his hands, breathing in carefully yet shaking. His head lulls side to side.

Reid is by his side before Aaron can even reach the doorknobs.

“Don’t come in,” Chris whisper steels Aaron behind the glass. “Don’t... I can’t... I can’t look at you.”

For a sliver of seconds, Hotch felt he had been slapped away, but the look of shame in Chris’s ducked face makes Hotch understand that Chris had asked for mercy.

Reid gave him a water bottle and rubs Chris’s back.

“Are you gonna make me close my eyes and tell me what it smells like in their place three decades ago?”

Reid grimaced, “Yeah.”

“Ah balls,” Chris dug his nails in his hair. Chris takes a soundly deep breath and out in a languid pace until he calms down.

On the other side, a storm is brewing under Hotch’s calm demeanor. He doesn’t know whether he felt slapped or touched that Chris is holding him by the arm length. Hotch has a job to do and coming in won't help his case.

But it’s Chris.

Reid can handle Chris just fine. He trusts his coworkers with his life, and it extends to his loved ones as well.

But Chris needs him. Hotch should be in there.

“I’m sorry for asking this of you Chris,” Reid soothed, and even Hotch knew it was the wrong thing to say.

“Do you?” Chris glares at Reid for a moment before turning away to the floor. “Do you really understand what you’re asking me?” Chris started to raise his voice, hands clamping down on each other from throwing punches. “Undoing years of counseling, therapy, medication, and crying in my bathroom to forget what you’re trying to make me remember again,” The build-up never exploded, Chris whimpers instead, covering his face with his palms.

Hotch looks away, and that was the first tell that Rossi and JJ can pick up. They too, were absorbed into Chris’s revelation. To them, Chris has been an open book that tells nothing of himself. It will fool unassuming people, but for his profiler coworkers, Chris is a closed-off person despite always telling a good story. This is their first peek into Chris's true self, one that has been worrying Hotch. Scars are not meant to be forgotten, they’re meant to be treated and healed. Chris’s wound never got healed, just lived through.

It’s been close to two years since they dated and Hotch only had known Chris’s background recently and the entirety is forced out before Chris can find his own time to tell Hotch.

“We should give him a break,” JJ says, laying her palm on Hotch’s shoulder.

Like some cosmic joke, Hotch’s phone vibrates along with JJ’s and Rossi’s, also Reid looks down on his phone. Another body, but it’s a different age group as the rest. The man looks to be in his seventies. Ex-cop. Family man. Gauged eyes, mutilated hands, and family pictures surrounding him in the family room.

“That’s one more in less than six hours, this can’t be something done by one person,” Rossi says.

“A team?” JJ says.

“Or just one highly effective guy, however many our unsub is, something changed.”

“Can’t be out of reason, we knew the trigger. What triggers this escalation?”

They went into a collective silence before Hotch sees one trigger that wouldn’t have correlated with the Johnson.

Hotch reaches out and pushes the communication button, “Chris.”

Both Reid and Chris jump at the sudden voice filling the room. Chris is looking at the mirror, but not knowing where to look, “Yes honey?”

“Did you tell anyone that you’re being questioned here?”

The gears start to turn with Rossi and JJ, despite out of the conversation Reid and Chris caught on too.

“Yeah, I told my captain through a group chat that I’m being questioned and asked for a leave tomorrow.”

“I’ll tell Garcia,” JJ says right away as she shoots out of the room.

“Hotch, you’ll know he’ll go under audit too,” Rossi reminds.

“I know.”

Hotch is not too worried, Garcia will find a lot of skincare products, weird workout classes, and an alarming amount of honey.

“Sorry for the outburst there, you can still rip the band-aid from my baby hairs, Reid,” Chris shakes himself and sit straight up. Reid goes back to his chair and cleared his throat.

“Okay, close your eyes,” Reid says and Chris obeys, sitting hunched right away and hands clasped on top of the table. “Tell me what kind of house was the Johnsons.”

Chris scoffs, “A pretentious one.”

“How?”

“Warm colored walls, porch filled with flowers, white picket fence, and clipped green lawn, you name it. Our house is far away from the others. There’s a corn farm in the backyard. Me and a few kids lived in the other house behind the cornfield. We call it a barn, but it was like... like a quarter... or prison.”

“Did all the kids lived in that barn?” Reid noticed that the house was another one, indicating that it was a second choice. Something less important.

“No, there’s the main house. The one with a patio and lawn. One that looks like a real house than just a quarter.”

“Are there foster kids there too?”

“Yeah.”

“Why are they different?”

Chris inhaled sharply at that, his face wrinkled in pain. Even now, Chirs’ expression doesn’t betray his heart, especially now he has voluntarily tear his defense away. This isn’t how Hotch wants this to happen. It’s best to let Chris passes through the defenses to show himself rather than destroy the walls and leave destruction behind. There's a looming fear inside his cool composure that Chris might not come out of this intact. It makes the chief unit wonder why he’s doing this.

For the sake of other people, he reminds himself. The innocent lives that are being killed by the unsub(s), but what use is he if he can’t even protect his own loved ones.

“I was supposed to be one of the foster children,” Chris’s voice small and broken, his eyelids tightly shut.

“Then you’re not?” Reid questioned gently as if to approach a small child.

“No,” Chris whimper with a shake of his head. “I’m not anymore.”

“What changed?”

Chris’s eyebrows furrowed, trying to remember, “tan skin, brown hair, Asian complexion, but blue-eyed.... someone else wanted me, better as profit rather than work.” Chris says as if repeating someone’s words.

“Who did?”

“I-I don’t know, I never get to... I never...N-n-n”

“Chris,” Reid says calmingly, “Do you remember all the kids there in the barn with you?”

“Not everyone... We’re not friends... Not all of us... The Johnsons sometimes came in the middle of the night to wake one of the kids and took them, they never came back by the morning.”

“Do you remember anyone in particular? They would want to escape, always looking for something in the corner and can’t stay still. They’d burst into tantrums when told to do something they don’t like.”

“There were a handful of those kids.”

Reid pauses, his eyes scanning around thinking, “What’s the worst punishment done to the kids?”

“Solitary... two days. No food, no windows. It’s cold... Narrow... so many spiders.”

Chris has been there.

“What did you do?”

“I didn’t mean to...” Chris’s voice turns into a weak plea.

Hotch doesn’t know whether to feel hurt or relieve. Hurt because of the true size of Chris's trauma, relieve because Chris is not the unsub. The unsub would’ve lashed out and insist violently that it was not their fault.

“They didn’t give us anything to play with, and we’re not allowed to go outside. One day a boy tinker with the window and we sneak out. We met with another kid. He was friendly, cute, and playful and we just wanted to play outside when the sun is up. That’s all we wanted to do, we’re always locked inside. It’s not like we can escape. We wouldn’t have, we couldn’t!” Chris starts to hyperventilate, he’s leaning in further till his temple pressed against his knuckles on the table, curling up further into the memory. Chris keeps repeating incoherent words as he rocks back and forth.

Hotch reaches to the door without thinking twice. When Rossi stopped him before he can open the door, Hotch was giving him a murderous glare, but his rationality lets Rossi stop him again, and Hotch hates himself more.

“Reid is getting close Hotch. Chris is saying ‘we’, just a bit more,” Rossi coaxed. Hotch knows that, knows that, and hates it.

“You’re not there, Chris, remember? You ran away,” Reid says, trying to calm Chris down. It would’ve worked, but Chirs had gone too far.

“This isn’t happening to me. This isn’t happening to me. This doesn’t happen. I’m not here. I’m not here.” Chris’s voice breaks and repeats even faster.

“Chris, where are you now?” Reid asks and Hotch felt his blood boils. Reid is pushing for information instead of calming him now. But Hotch clenches his fist yet again and lets it happened.

Five bodies and counting. Hotch is a unit chief, he has a job to do, lives to save.

“We’re getting out of here,” Chris whimpers yet hopeful, “Markus has a plan, and we can be free.”

They all perked up from the first name Chris utter. Morgan returns instead of JJ and Hotch didn’t realize he was there until the man lightly gasp.

“Don’t catch me. Don’t catch me,” mumbles, it’s barely audible. “It’s dark. No. They’re letting me leave alone,” Chris starts to hyperventilate again, “I’m not here. I’m not here. I’m not here.”

“Chris, you’re not there, you’re safe. You’re in the BAU interrogation room,” Reid soothed, but Chris murmurs the same words. Physical contact would’ve been the next step to break the person from their trance. That’s what Reid did, and Chris jolts violently.

The chair on Chirs’s toppled over as he bolted to stand, eyes wide and terrified, Hotch didn’t recognize him.

“NO!” Chris screamed as he huddled over to the corner, “I can’t go back I’m sorry!” Chris screams with all his throat, still hiding his face, he whimpers, “I’m sorry Markus.”

Hotch sees the gears turning inside Reid’s head, but his face turns compassionate once he approaches Chris hunched in the corner. “Chris?”

Chris still shakes, murmuring lowly and incoherently as his head tucked between his knees. That’s when Hotch can’t stay back anymore. He doesn’t care that Chris is ashamed of himself if he’s confronted by Hotch, he just needs to show that there’s nothing to worry about. Hotch barges in and the only one who flinches is Reid. Looking at his unit chief, Reid steps back and nod towards Hotch.

Hotch lets go of his title as he kneels in front of Chirs and puts on the voice he usually uses on Chris. Adoring, loving, a thread-thin from pulling him into a hug, “Chris.”

A breath halt and teary blue eyes peek above folded arms on top of pressed knees.

Aaron only barely opens his arms but Chris already lunged in and fits himself inside his arms. Hands clinging on Aaron’s back, Chris presses his wet face on Aaron’s chest. A few seconds passed and Aaron sighed in relief as he hugs Chris back. Chris sniffs and coughs and Aaron feels his shirt dampens. Aaron lay his head on top of Chris and rubs his back, soothing his boyfriend, that’s more soothing to himself.

“God fucking dammit,” Chris curses, “This is so fucking embarrassing.”

Aaron chuckles in violent relief, Chris is back. “Let’s sit you up in the chair.”

Chris nods, and the moment he leans away, Chris pats the tears until his face completely dry before looking up. Chris gasps at Aaron’s chest, or more accurately, a face-shaped tear stain on Aaron’s chest. “Oh no, your shirt! God, I’m a fucking mess,” Chris grumbles as he wipes the wet spot, which doesn't do anything but spread the tears around.

“Want me to stay here for the rest?” Aaron offered which paused Chris mid-cleaning (trying to anyway.) Chris glances behind Aaron where Reid still stood, reminding him of a job to do. Aaron felt his stomach churn at what he needs to do, but Chris beats him to it.

His eyes blown wide and his lips gape, “Holy fucking shit, Markus!” Chris yells as if it’s a long lost knowledge he just found. The revelation didn’t stick around, Chris’s expression sour as he rubs his face, cursing up about.

“Who is that?” Reid asked.

“One of the kids in the barn,” Chris looks up from his hands, eyes tired and ashamed. “I wouldn’t have been able to get out if it wasn’t for him. He planned it with a handful of kids. I just tagged along, I wasn’t as smart as them, they’re a couple of years older too. I was about to accept my fate.” Chris nibbles on his lips, eyes gathering tears as he chuckles deprecatingly. “Last time I saw him... the Johnsons family friend, a police, caught him... I should’ve got back and saved him but I didn’t, too scared. That police... he...” Chris’s voice broke at the last sentence, he gulps the rest of the words. His eyes looking through the table, hollow.

“I’m gonna show you pictures, would you be able to pick Markus out?”

Chris nods limply at Reid’s request.

Hotch and Reid share a worried look but they go through with the photos. This is where Aaron starts being Hotch. Chris’s memory is freshly dug, and now there’s no time for distraction, not until Chris points a picture. Yet the sight of Chris with head hung and eyes hollow is so foreign and heartbreaking that it takes a mighty will not to reach out and just scoop Chris out of this place.

Reid puts on stacks of pictures. All are documented missing children by the range of year when Chris was under the Johnsons, which means when he was nine until he’s thirteen.

Chris takes the stacks of pictures of kids and goes through all of them. He leaves out one caucasian girl with strawberry blond hair and a blond caucasian boy. Chris goes till the last and looks around manically.

“There... there supposed to be two more kids,” Chris finally looks up from his hunched state, and it seems to be all it took to snap him back to the realm of the living present. “Why yall look like someone just died and I feel very much alive or did I miss something dramatic that you’re not telling me?”

Someone burst into a laugh on the other side of the room, he’d guess it’s Garcia from the volume of the voice. By instinct, Hotch smirks as well, it’s just so Chris to put anything dark into a joke.

“These are everyone Chris,” Reid says with an amused smile.

“But I remember there’s two more. One black kid...” Realization comes to Chris, and his mouth drops to a frown. “Josh... and Markus is not in here.”

“Do you remember what Markus looked like?” Hotch asked this time, and Chris looks at him with puffy eyes and the same familiar friendly smile.

“No one can forget Markus. He was two years older than me, and I had a crush on him when I was 12. Tall, lanky, he’s black but light-skinned, and the eyes... one blue and one green.” Chris says dreamily mentioning the eyes that were cut short when Reid shoved a picture in a tablet to his face. It was the picture of the latest victim, the ex-cop.

“Do you know who he is?” Reid asked quickly.

Chris narrows his eyes, “Familiar... but I’m not sure.”

Reid takes the picture back and taps a few times, “How about this?” It was a picture of the same person but younger, and Chris draws back. Chris goes so still, it doesn’t seem that he’s breathing. His eyes look like they’re embedded with genuine fear.

“Th-That was... the cop that came often he... he... he visits us, takes us to... sometimes.... keeps us in check and-and keep us from running awa-”

Before Chris shrinks himself any further, Reid abruptly leaves the room with fury in his face.

Chris’s cheeks flushed, “Uh... Did I say something wrong?”

“No, you didn’t,” Hotch leans down and kisses Chris on the temple before he leads Chris out of the room.

He’s not too in a hurry to leave Chris despite the detrimental breakthrough the team is having. Hotch knew the meaning of Reid’s disgusted face as he recognizes the face of the cop, Hotch does too, this is the first time he’s glad a victim died.

Chris keeps himself close to Aaron, looping his arm around Aaron’s waist and laying his head on Aaron’s shoulder. They walked out to the office, some of his team is already in the situation room on the upper room where Reid looks haywire, looking through the paper on the table and slapping papers on the board. People going in and out of the office and the cubicle are looking at the distraught couple.

Hotch didn’t hide the fact that he has a boyfriend nor did he flaunt it. Today is the only day his office sees Chris in the flesh, and not in a form of presents and flowers in his office. Some look in amusement, some in wonder, some looks excited and glad that the giver of flowers is actually real.

As much as Hotch wants to stay back and keep Chris company, he can’t, he’s on the job.

“Go,” Chris looks up from Aaron’s shoulder and taps him on the chest, “I’ll be fine.” Aaron stare back and pressed his lips, which makes Chris rolls his eyes. “I’m not made of glass Aaron, just... I need some rest,” and that is more believable than the front Chris tried to create.

“Wait in my office, I can get Garcia to-”

“You don’t need to do that... I bet they need Penelope more now that Reid just bursts out of the room with a literal light bulb above his head. And I don’t know about staying here...”

“You can’t leave the building,” Hotch says curtly, his hand on Chris’s shoulder tensed. “You fall under the unsub’s targets, I’m not taking any chances. You’re safer here.”

Chris sighed resignedly and pat Hotch’s chest, “I’ll stay in your office, but you don’t need to be my baby sitter.”

“Making sure witnesses are calm after a memory jog like that is one of our jobdesk too.”

“But they need their unit chief more than I need my boyfriend.” Hotch resent that Chris looks at him in the eye saying that, seeing the genuinity behind it.

Hotch is ashamed to admit that sometimes he forgets that Chris is a law enforcement. A decorated detective for god’s sake. Chris understands these responsibilities.

Deep down, Aaron loves Chris’s constant need for him rather than resignment of his absence. That resignment is the fine cracks in the relationship that when Chris's patience does snap it’ll break into fine pieces right away with no possibility of mending it back together. They’ll figure out that Aaron isn’t enough and that he isn’t what they need, and then they leave.

As if seeing Hotch’s internal struggle, Chris wraps both arms on Hotch’s torso and squeeze tight. Chris even lift Hotch a little and swing him left to right, and Hotch let him. Hotch wraps his arms around Chris’s shoulder to hang on as his toes scrape the floor. Chris’s whimsical way of physical affection soothes Hotch’s tension a bit. Chris feels okay enough to not care about the PDA at least, and that’s like aloe vera to a sunburnt skin for Hotch.

When they first walked into the building earlier, Chris stayed a meter away from Hotch, which is a meter too far from usual. Now he’s not caring that he’s lifting a unit chief of a BAU unit in the middle of a full office.

When Chris puts him back to the floor, Hotch already misses the tightness around his waist. Chris leans back, showing earnest blue eyes as he cups Hotch’s face.

“My sweet adorable pink cupcake,” Chris says to his middle-aged, stoic, black suit-wearing, frowning boyfriend. “You have nothing to worry about,” Chris adds and makes Hotch chuckle.

Before Hotch can leave with a weight in his chest, comes a familiar face. “I’ll accompany him,” Emily says, and Chris visibly brightens (sounds like a claim from a brightening cream, imagine a world where seeing your favs makes your skin brighter and glowing, the world will be a better place... sigh, anyway.)

“Emily! You got tea need spilling,” Chris quipped as he wraps Emily in a hug. Emily passes her chief unit an amused look, which Hotch didn’t see because he’s too busy paying attention to Chris’s emotional state.

“I do, huh?” Emily chuckles and pats Chris’s back. The ear to ear smile on Chris’s face puts Hotch to ease.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Hotch says to Emily. “Rest easy at my office,” Hotch says to Chris.

“Coolio.”

Hotch kisses Chris on the corner of his lips before turning around to leave, not hearing a heavy sigh.

-.-.-.-

Ten minutes later, Chris is sitting on Hotch’s office sofa which Emily had informed that he often took a nap here instead of going home, which is alarming. He wonders if the days Chris doesn’t get any replies, Aaron was sleeping on this couch, which is a relieving thought at least. Chris would take sleeping on the couch than sleeping and bleeding on the curb.

Chris is holding a big plastic cup of chamomile tea while Emily has a regular-sized cup of coffee. Emily also informed that the cup was actually Reid’s and is used to drink coffee. Chris knows the brand of this cup, it’s 700ml capacity and for fruit and or vegetable juices, not coffee, which is alarming (2). How is Reid even still alive at this point. Chris is stealing this cup. Being a detective be damned.

Then Emily informed how she came back to life. There’s no demonic ritual that Chris had originally predicted, Emily just curbs death and didn’t tell anyone she did until recently. Chris chuckled when he thinks ‘just curb death’ like it’s something casual, this isn’t a tv show, people don’t just come back to life or fake death. But Emily did just said she was an undercover agent for some drug lord and hid his child. Maybe this _is_ a tv show. Emily doesn’t look alive for someone that just got back to life and jailed a drug lord, which is alarming(3).

Despite the conversation and the big cup of tea, the alarming information had dulled the tea’s relaxing effect.

“Em, I love you, but seeing you all teared up inside hurts. Something wrong?” Chris was only half meant it, but the way Emily’s composure melts away is alarming(4).

In her beautiful face, adorn a bone-deep defeat and tiredness. All the characters in this one dramatic episode are tired, Chris knows, but this one is different.

“I’m just amazed that you took me coming back well,” Emily starts, looking at Chris with a gulp.

A light bulb pops on top of his head when Chris registered what Emily meant, “They didn’t?” Chris raises his voice, extremely alarmed at the possibility that Emily is turned away when she came back. Why would anyone do that??

At Chris’s alarmed expression, Emily pats Chris’s shoulder soothingly, “Look, I lied to them. They thought I was dead, and they’ve mourned me and went to therapy because of me. The only one that knows was JJ and Hotch. Which the rest of the team also mad at because they thought that me, Hotch, and JJ didn’t trust the rest of the team.” Emily looks at Chris imploringly, “Aren’t you a little bit mad that Hotch didn’t say anything to you? Not even after I came back?”

Chris had never thought of it tbh, and only now that he’s processing it. Aaron knew that Chris was sad that Emily died, he might not mourn her as heavily as her work family, but it would’ve been nice to know when Emily came back. Still...

“I’m not really mad at it, curious maybe,” Chris shrugs. “Dating Aaron, I know that there are some things he can’t say to me, and I trust that whatever he keeps secret is for our own good. Like how humans keep dogs away from pizzas even though the dog wants one.” Chris isn’t sure if that’s the right euphemism, but Emily chuckles at it.

“What about my case though?” Emily insists, there’s a pleading in her pretty dark eyes framed with thick pretty lashes. “Wouldn’t you want to know right away that I’m alive?”

Chris felt the question is very important when Emily holds his gaze like a lifeline, though what else can Chris do but tell the truth? “I dunno about that. Right away or not, I believe I’m gonna know eventually, he’s your boss and I’m his boyfriend and all. I don’t know why Aaron keeps you from me, but I trust him to have a good reason for it. I’m sure you realized that he’s the calm and rational in the relationship,” Chris chuckles, which died down quickly when Emily starts to tear up.

“I’m sorry,” Emily sniffs and pats her eyes while giving a weak smile. “I was nervous about meeting you. I told Hotch I wasn’t ready yet.”

Chris’s heart melts a little at the confession. “Honey, you think I wouldn’t be happy you’re back? Because that’s bonkers and maybe that’s because you had too much caffeine. Here have a sip of my tea.” Chris takes Emily’s coffee and shoves his tea in her hands instead. Emily doesn’t have the time to defend her coffee, not from Chris's multi-functionally nimble hands.

To Chris's absolute shock, Emily didn’t chuckle at the impossibility. She just shrugs as if it’s what she had expected. Chris has been blind coming into the building, not seeing the difference. Maybe there’s a reason why Emily is here instead of everyone else.

“I knew you said they were disappointed, but I didn’t know it would’ve affected you this way,” Chris says rather bluntly. Imagine undergoing a painful procedure, barely escaping death, and having to isolate yourself from your loved ones only to return with them turning the other cheek.

“Maybe in time things will be better?” Chris says as a recovery.

Emily smiled at the effort and drinks the tea. Chris now wants to take it back. Emily doesn’t need tea, she needs a tub of ice cream.

“It feels a bit different now,” Emily prompts.

“What does?”

“The team,” Emily sighed, “I returned and nothing feels the same.”

“I mean that’s what happens when someone’s through a tragedy. Once a paper folded, it’d never return to its original smooth surface.”

Emily looks at him amused at the last one. What? Chris has been reading novels lately. Aaron has been suggesting ones that are easy to read and exciting enough to hold Chris’s attention.

“You’re right,” Emily says in finality, but Chris sees that the problem isn’t resolved nor did Emily feel better or think otherwise about this dilemma.

Chris gulped as he asks the hard question, “Are you happy in this team?”

Emily’s lids flutter as she looks down to the jug of tea, “Not that I’m unhappy... I just feel like I didn’t belong here anymore.”

Chris gulped, he’s pretty sure that is some personal stuff mixing with the job. This is only the second time Chris met Emily. The days of the team assisting him on a case two years ago count as one meeting. When Chris said ‘spill the tea’ he meant it half-heartedly, he didn’t expect that Emily serves a full course like this. Still, Chris is grateful though, he does get along with Emily as he had predicted.

“What are you gonna do?” Chris asks.

Emily sighs even heavier this time as if the thought had been in her mind and never actually voiced, until now. “I’ve got an offer in Interpol. I’m thinking of taking it. Please don’t tell anyone yet.”

“Okay, that'll be our secret,” Chris winks scandalously and Emily chuckles lightly.

Chris takes a sharp inhale of breath, he’s thinking of the team’s reaction. He knows the team couldn’t have reacted as badly as Emily makes it seems, they'd be devastated.

“Well, whatever you decide, I expect you to stay in contact kay?”

Emily blinks a few times at it and then chuckles. “That’s a given. I’m sorry for unloading on you, I’m supposed to keep you calm.”

“It helps that I’m distracted,” Chris asks the tea back and gulps hefty amounts. “Today’s gonna haunt my dreams.”

“Yeah... Hope you’re going to a professional after this.”

Chris didn’t say anything to that. Chris never did finish the therapy, was too drunk, too high, too drugged up at that time of his life that therapy wasn’t working. After getting clean he tried meds by a psychiatrist only to relapse and unable to control himself. He hated therapy, going to the psychologist means that you need to tell your story and confront it, Chris hates that. He hates describing it, he felt he was there yet again. He’s not there anymore, why must he keep saying as if he’s so?

So in the end, the reckless actions are what saved him. His head up in the clouds. He can take whatever he wants, dress however he wants, date whoever he wants. No night curfew, no uniform, no restriction. He’s free, he’s not there anymore, no one left can hurt him. No one left, not even Markus, not even Matty.

“What is it?” Emily bumps her shoulder against Chris. He must’ve been making nasty faces. Well, it’s only fair.

“Did ya know how I ended up an orphan?” Chris prompts. Emily nods, must’ve known from Garcia. “Kinda sucks isn’t it that shitty people like the Johnsons get to live a prosperous life till they die calmly in their bed of old age while my guardian Matty, who had taken me in out of pure unfiltered kindness, died when I needed him the most.” The continuation of that phrase is at the tip of his tongue. It’s hard to say, it’s weighty and the hearer will feel a little crush.

Must’ve been what Emily felt when she unburdens to Chris.

“I’ve lost a lot of people in my life. Each been harder than the previous one. I got Aaron now. I love the guy to the literal death, but his job...” Chris nods his head to the side and whistles, “Not easy on the heart.”

“I know I’m gonna lose him on a case,” Chris continues and Emily looks mortified.

“Chris... I... I don’t think you need to worry about that.”

Chris mirthlessly chuckles at Emily’s response because cmon, she knows her boss better. “Your job is dangerous, Aaron’s been stabbed with multiple things and by multiple beings. I know this job is important to him, I don’t have the heart to tell him to stop. I’ve been trying to make peace with it.”

Emily picks her jaw from the floor, now she’s the one who looked alarmed, and yet, there’s amazement in there for some reason. “Make peace with what?”

Chris smiles, but his eyes sting. He did say he’s been trying, he’s not quite there yet though. “That he’s going to leave when I couldn’t be there for him. Ah geez, now I’m crying again. My under eyes is already so abused, I need some eye mask after all this is done,” Chris sniffs theatrically and pat his eyes. “I didn’t want to think pessimistically, but I can’t help it. I constantly worry, but he’s worth my constant worry, so all I can do is make peace with things I suppose to compromise with. Because God knows he compromises enough for me.”

Emily doesn’t say anything about that, and they finish their drink with a lighter talk.

What else would Chris talk about but little stories when he was drunk or at a pub. Turns out, Emily has a few of those stories. Emily is so funny that before she was interrupted, Chris is busting a lung laughing after Emily told him about her ‘Tampon Juice tragedy’ or so she called it.

After that, Chris took a nap on the couch and dream a little good dream. From the pressure and tenseness today, Chris expected some nasty little nightmares, but no, Chris is pretty sure this is a good one because Matty is here!

Matty Matheson is a loud big friendly bear with tattoos all over his body but not so much that it won’t get covered by his police uniform. And his hair cropped on the top and a rat tail on the nape. It gives off reformed bad boy vibes. Now that he thinks about it, Matty and him both reformed bad boys, huh.

Matty was an aspiring cook, he had a small restaurant aside from being a cop. In a few years living with Matty, life was comfortable. Chris is fed with delicious food and loud proud love from Matty, he believes that Chris is the person he is now because of Matty’s influence, that way, Matty lives on.

In this dream, they’re back at Matty’s old house, that place is given to Chris when he died. Chris couldn’t live there after Matty died so he left to an apartment instead.

It’s a bright summer day, and the house is bright like when Matty is there. It’s situated on the skirt of the city where Matty got it cheap. The house is so far away from the city that they all needed to ride the train at 6 every day to make it to work and school on time, but it was worth it. It’s a small house with three bedrooms and two bathrooms, a living room connected to the kitchen. The back garden is small, but Matty grew lots of herbs and vegetables there. Chris took up gardening at that time. ‘Grow some pretty shit on the front garden! Heal the soul!’ Matty had said.

Even though Chris doesn’t live here anymore, nor did he still gardens, in this dream, the flowers are in full bloom. Chris walks to the front porch with Aaron in hand. The door opens before Chris could even knock. Barely fits in the door, Matty Matheson wears a Slayer tanktop that’s loose yet hides nothing of his big gut, chest, and arms. Comfortable in his striped shorts with socks and sandals.

“CHRISSSEEEEYYYYY!!!!” Matty screams with a big smile. His teeth shine through his thick mustache.

“MATTEEEYYYY!!!” Chris screams back cheerfully and they share a big tight hug. Matty lifts him into a spin, making Chris’s ankle take a hit on the door frame.

“Ow, my ankles!”

“Who is this handsome fella!” Matty says at Aaron who’s watching with amusement.

“Matty, this is Aaron Hotchner, my boyfriend. Aaron darling, this is my dad.” This is the first time Chris had ever called Matty dad, and Matty makes a cute pouty face at Chris.

“Aww! Chrissy!” Matty tip-toed and kiss Chris on the cheek then extend his hand to Aaron. “Hi! Nice to finally meet Chris’s hunky hot sweetheart.” Aaron takes Matty’s hand to shake, only to be pulled by Matty into the same crushing hug and cheek kiss.

“Matty!” Chris whines, “Don’t call me boyfriend hunky in front of him,” Chris ducks shyly.

Aaron takes the violently intrusive touchiness like a champ as he smiles at Chris after the wet kiss.

“Nice to meet you too. It smells good in here,” hunky boyfriend says.

“Yup! I’m making a whole buffet! Hope yall hungry!”

“I am, I am!” Chris cheers just like he did when he still lived with Matty.

The whole table is full of citrusy salad, cheesy casserole, clam pasta, tray pizza, and short rib queso. All of Chris’s favorite. Chris lights up at the sight of a full table with colorful greasy dishes. He never eats like this anymore now that he lived alone and keeping his figure at his age.

“Eat! Eat more, Chrissey you’re so skinny!” Matty shove a hefty serving of clam pasta at Chris.

“Oof, I don’t know, at this age, that many carbs is gonna go straight to my gut,” Chris cringes. He realizes then that he’s now the same age when Matty died.

Aaron bumps his shoulder, and wrap him in his arm. “We’d work them out,” Aaron says innocently. Matty, the ever vulgar man, lights up and giving Chris some bouncing eyebrows.

“Ooooh, Chrissey! Look at the actions you’re getting!”

“Matty! That’s not what he meant,” Chris play indignant and slap his shoulder while his poor boyfriend goes bright red. He just knew Matty would tip whatever composure Aaron has. Matty is just that way for everyone.

Matty told Chris to go back and check his pride and joy, the garden, while he washes the dishes. Being the most considerate and kind boyfriend Aaron in, he offered to help. Chris takes the hint and goes to the garden. He’s kind of nervous. He rarely brought anyone back. He brought Rachel only after they’ve dated for three years. He brought Quinn, one of Chris’s earlier real partners and they were absolutely mortified at Matty. Chris broke them up after that.

Chris loves Aaron a lot, and it would be great if he can get Matty’s thumbs up.

The back garden has a small wooden floored patio with a plastic roof, a rounded table, and two rattan chairs. The back garden is small, but Matty utilize them to grom 15 herbs on pots hanging from the fence, and nine kinds of vegetables and fruits on the ground. A row of cherry tomatoes caught his eyes. They’re red and ripe. Chris remembered stealing taking one whenever he wants a snack.

Chris plucks a tomato and eats it. He tastes nothing.

“Chris,” Aaron calls.

When Chris looks up, Aaron is looking down on him with the sun behind his head. He looks bright and handsome, but he knows the meaning of that look on Aaron’s face.

“I’m sorry, I got a call,” Aaron says in the usual sorry voice.

At these moments, Chris always smiles resignedly. What can you do, right? Aaron has a job to do, and lives are at stake. Chris is proud of Aaron, though it does get disappointing, but most of all, kind of lonely.

“It’s okay little buttercup,” Chris stands up and kisses him on the lips, “Go.”

Aaron squeezes in one last hug and left. Matty who saw everything waves Aaron goodbye and looks at Chris weirdly, “You call that guy little buttercup?? Chris, he’s a tall, brooding, and handsome gentleman! It should be like Mr. Sherlock or some British nicknames or shit.”

Chris chuckles, “I’m not gonna call my boyfriend after a cocky snobby detective.”

“Bah! Tomato Tomahto. Now c’mere! I got sangria!”

They chill under the shade in the patio. Drinking red wine with berries, lemon, and mint sangria.

“You got a good dude there, Chrissy. An FBI agent too, what a surprise! He treatin’ you well?” Matty asks, swirling the ice in his mug.

“He does... He does...” Chris looks down on his own mug of Sangria.

“Oh no! Why the long face?”

“He’s back on a case.”

“Yeah duh! He’s an FBI agent. FBI agents go to cases and kick asses!”

“These cases are dangerous though,” Chris hears himself deflates and tearful, “Once, I really thought he’s not coming back.” He’s full-blown crying now. “Matty, I barely survived losing you, how can I survive losing Aaron?”

Matty waddles over to him and gives him his signature bear hug. Chris has forgotten how good Matty’s hugs felt, it was forgotten along with the pain of losing Matty.

“Dwaww, don’t cry Cwissy it’s all okay,” Matty says in the baby voice he uses whenever Chris is crying. It always distracts Chris from sadness from either laughter, cringes, and infuriation. Now Chris just missed the uwu talk now that he’s crying even more.

“You didn’t know.... how could you know....” Chris sobs, laying his heart bare on a dream and an imagined savior that he never gets to call dad. “When I lost you I had no one... You don’t know how this house swallows me without you in it... I didn’t know how I survived that.”

“But you’re here Chris, you’re still here, and you did survive it!” Matty says, but it doesn’t sound so much like Matty anymore, but Chris clung to Matty anyway and shut his eyes tight, and tuck into his chest.

“I don’t know how.”

“I’ll remind you. You’re never truly alone. Our neighbors love you just as much as I do, and their daughter Haily adores you too. She’s still around right? I’m sorry that people leave you Chris, but no matter how alone you feel, you have to remember that you’re not truly alone. There’s always someone to reach out to, someone that’s willing to be there for you, more than you thought they were.”

Chris weeps, and when he opens his eyes, an empty desk stares at him. He rises from the couch and wipes his damp eyes. The room is empty. The only sign of Emily is the coffee cup beside his juice jug, which he still plans on stealing. When he sits up, he realized he was covered in a blanket, it fell to his lap from his shoulder. It was the soft fluffy blanket he gave Aaron for Christmas.

Chris clutch the blanket and sighed at the nostalgic feeling of dreaming about Matty. It’s been years since he dreamt of his foster father, and of course, it’s about Aaron. He honestly doesn’t want to think about it. Hopefully, this dream would be forgotten if he keeps busy with something else. He whips out his phone and takes a look at the clock. Three AM. He slept for two hours. Then he scrolls on Instagram until Emily comes into the room.

She looks like she just witnessed a puppy dying.

“Tell me my boyfriend is still alive,” Chris said jokingly, but as soon as he said it, he felt cold water washes over his back.

“Yes.... yes he is,” Emily says, a bit stunned.

“Jesus Em, don’t pause like that,” Chris sighs in a literal wash of relief. Whatever the reason Emily looks like that, he can take it on.

“I got a call from the team,” Emily says, and then the pause is more intense this time.

He swears he hears the sound of the violin intensifying in the background.

“Well? Don’t keep me in blue-balling suspense, what is it??”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And then I blue-balled yall in suspense.....
> 
> Tell me what you think!
> 
> Open to critics. Comments and Kudos if you like this~
> 
>   
> [find me on tumblr!](https://emotionalcello-makefanfics.tumblr.com/)


	3. *Smooth guitar chord* To Be Continued>>

How far should it get until Hotch finally realized that his job has been consistently a tiebreaker in the relationship? Pretty far, since Hotch let it get this far.

They’re outside of the pier where Leo Manfred is holding three people hostages with the help of another woman called Julia.

Leo Manfred, son of Carl Manfred, had died at birth. Carl Manfred made a purchase of Markus who is now taken the identity of Leo. They had interviews with Carl who died just yesterday by stroke, and Reid remembered Markus because of the pictures in Carl’s mansion. As Leo Manfred, Markus lives as his biological child from a black woman and serves as Carl’s assistant. To only see that Markus has no bank accounts nor any fortune to his name. Until Carl’s sudden death that makes Markus inherit everything.

They work in a group, thankfully the team isn’t that much too late. Samuel and Johnathan were captured. Samuel in his home with his family, but then shoot himself before the police can get to him. When they captured Jonathan in his office, they make sure that they take measures even though Jonathan isn’t as erratic as Samuel.

Samuel works at the town hall as the Mayor’s assistant, husband of a highly regarded politician that’s coming from a politician family. Johnathan is a regional manager of a pharmaceutical company. Julia is a housewife of a highly regarded politician. Markus is a son/assistant of his famous painter father. With the four of them you have a team with intel, influence, and money, they have been an efficient team. Garcia went into deeper digging after Chris mentioned Markus.

They met at the Johnsons’ open funeral with the same rage then starts plotting from there. The source of their anger had died, and their first rage was to kill the kids that watched from afar.

Once they target Markus, they chased Markus and Julia to the port inside the packages building. Markus has access because he foresees Carl’s art through this pier. Now they’re inside the building with no possible surveillance nor a second exit but the front door. They have no choice but to send in a negotiator. It was Morgan at first, trying to build rapport by calling him Markus instead of his given name, Leo. The move almost cost them a life.

Markus wanted to talk with someone that gave told them his real name, and that’s why Chris is here at the crime scene.

Coming out of Emily’s car, Chris puts up a brave face. Hotch hates this with a passion. For all his rage, he always manages to keep it under his hardened face. He doesn’t have the right to be angry of course, he’s the unit chief. In the end, it was his call to ask Chris to come inside to negotiate. If it was any other civilian it wouldn’t be possible to send in a negotiator that was other than the working law enforcement. But Chris _is_ a law enforcement, and when Hotch called, Chris agrees to be the negotiator.

Into a building that has no surveillance to see into, no second exit to put in a sniper.

How many more times must this be done for Hotch to understand? Must he lose the third one?

“Whoa! You can murder someone with that face,” Chris pats Hotch’s face, they’re clammy and cold. Hotch takes them and holds tight.

“I don’t like this,” Hotch murmurs uselessly. There’s no other way, murmurs another voice in his head, once he called it his good conscience. His good conscience is telling him to throw his last chance of a life companion into a danger zone of possibly no return. What would that mean for Aaron?

“Now, I know sweetheart,” Chris wraps him in a hug and tuck Aaron’s head into the crook of his neck. “Remember, I’m a cop with a negotiating license, and I have experience. You’re making the right call.” Aaron closes his eyes and puts the ambulances, police cars, and the media going riot outside of the police line. They’re behind one of the SUVs, and Aaron has his piece of quiet.

“I’m going with you,” Aaron says when they lean away.

Chris doesn’t take time to ponder and nod in relief. Hotch knows Chris is more nervous than he seems. For someone that’s been trying to forget his past, this is a painful reenactment.

-.-.-.-

Wow. Shit just got real huh? Chris knows he had to face his past today, but not quite literally like this.

Any other day, he wouldn’t even know the name Markus, but now he remembers his face like it was yesterday. Along with Markus, he remembers a lot of things along with him too. He’s sure it’s almost everything, and Chris is freaking the fuck out. His hands were wet, pale, and cold like frozen left-away chicken like in one of those restaurants on Kitchen Nightmares.

The surrounding isn’t helping too. Chris’s patience with the press is reaching its ungodly limits. It made him remembered his officer days where he’d man the line from the press and got his toes stepped by a lady reporter with satan red heels, got punched by the cameraman, and elbowed by a journalist. All happened on different occasion of course, still sucks.

Chris mumbles while putting on a bulletproof vest that looks ugly over his shirt. God, all he wants to do is hold Aaron’s hand as they walk to the most nerve-wracking moment of his life and their possible death, but nooo, he has to save face because the officers are looking at them and Aaron’s team is giving them worried faces. Damn his pride.

One good thing about this is that this isn’t Chris’s first rodeo. He didn’t blindly accept to be a negotiator because of some blind justice. He’s been a negotiator before, a damn good one too. Okay, there's a second good thing, the team has a plan, and every good plan involves Garcia. So, Chris feels a bit more confident going in.

Doesn’t need to catch some feels. Goes in, lays the plan, goes out, or dead?

Hell, Chris doesn’t know anymore.

The chill night numbs him. The red and blue lights from the police cars blur with the white light of the port. The noise mumbles into a haze of noise. What comes around goes around, Chris thinks. Chris can’t seem to run away from the people from his past, yet his parents slip so easily through his fingers.

Soft pressure lands on the small of his back, “Ready to go?” Hotch says.

Chris takes a deep breath and put his war face on, “Yeah.”

Chris is gonna need some ice cream after this. Diet be damned.

When Chris steps into the building, there’s a feeling of claustrophobia and nostalgia. The room itself is roomy, but there’s so much stuff inside that the room feels narrow. This feels like his highschool reunion had not for the circumstances. Faces you once knew but older, more mature, this is like a reunion from hell. Markus and a woman look back at him with wariness and fury that Chris feels like he’s a little kid again. Even back then, they’re always angry and aware.

In a way, none of them changed, because Chris is still afraid. He felt chased by the past and he always chooses to run.

The captors are Leo and Julia, or as Chris knows them, Markus and North, are armed with a pistol and they’re pointing it at both of them. Chris has none, Hotch slipped one on his ankles. Three people are on the ground, their wrists tied on their backs and their ankles tied as well. They have tears run down their face down to their duct-taped mouth.

“We asked for one person,” North growls, pointing her gun at Chris. “Which one of you knows Leo’s name?”

“Me,” Chris says.

“You, leave.” Markus points his gun at Aaron and waves it to the door.

“I’m here for our agreement,” Aaron reminds.

Markus gives North a nod and she bends down to one of the hostages and snaps the ties on the hostage’s ankles. The woman on the ground runs to Aaron quickly and sobs. Aaron gave Chris a trusting nod before he left with the hostage.

And now Chris is alone. He turns to two barrels facing him and two faces that he had thought he’d never seen again.

“Markus,” Chris breathed, in disbelieve. Markus ages like fine wine. His hair is grown now instead of the buzzcut he remembered. His hair is put up in long box braids that are all bundled up in a bun. He’s tall, broad, and the age adds to his masculinity.

“North,” Chris says to the woman in strawberry blond hair cropped in a chic nape length. Her babyface has now grown into an elegant feature. The fine wrinkles on her face did nothing to her beauty. Once upon a time, the two of them were his only friends in the dark. What is Chris supposed to do now?

Markus and North share a surprised look once Chris says North’s name instead of calling her ‘Julia’.

“Does this means the two captured ones are Josh and Simon? You guys had always stuck together then,” Chris adds when no one is talking.

“Who are you!” North trusted her gun even more. The hostages by their feet squirms. Chris looks past the barrel to North’s eyes that ages but still the same in that fiery anger.

They were kids, babies... now they’re in their forties and Chris can’t help imagine their horrors.

“My name is Detective Kristianto Hamlyn. You can ca-”

“No,” North cuts, “Your real name... Your name given to you by your parents.”

There's a tense pause after that and Chris filled the blank pause with his own sense of dread and sadness.

“I don’t remember my name,” Chris admits, his breath shaky when he looks at Markus. “When you guys planned to run together, I ran too. I saw you, Markus, you were caught. I didn’t go back to you, I’m sorry.”

Markus tears down the calm face he was wearing, and his eyes widen, one blue one green. Slowly, he puts down his gun, North looks at him incredulously.

“Markus? What are you doing?”

“You’re... You’re Satria... aren’t you?” Markus says, and it took a while for Chris to realize that Markus is calling his name, his birth name. It’s been so long he’d forgotten. When Matty offered to look up his real name Chris had refused. In the back of his mind he was afraid that if he ever changes to his real name, the Johnsons would find him.

“Yeah...” Chris felt his eyes tear up, “Yeah it’s me.”

North then gapes at Chris. “We...” North looks between Markus and Chris in a mix of amazement, “We thought you died. Thomas found a dead body, we all thought it was you.”

Thomas... he was the police under Johnson’s thumbs. He often comes over for... for one of them. He was the one that they’ve killed. His sense of justice is twisting inside between how happy he is that Thomas is dead and how it shouldn’t be like that. Chris is tasting bale on the back of his throat.

“I don’t know what he’s talking about,” Chris wheezed, “I ran from there... I ran down south like you told me.” Chris looks at Markus. His protector, his savior, and his first crush all wrapped into one. “Ran till the edge of Newyork, till I found a church orphanage. They renamed me there because I’m too scared to say my name. Scared that they’d found me.” Chris's eyes water when his mind is flooded with memories.

Chris tenses when Markus pockets his gun and stride towards him. He expects nothing, including a hug that comes his way. Chris and North shares their surprise, but Chris breaks away and hugs Markus back.

“I’m sorry Markus, I’m so sorry,” Chris weeps to Markus’ shoulder his guilt decades rotting at the back of his mind. All his festering guilt now all floated to the surface, along with the festering wound that’s still open.

“Get away from him,” North hisses. Chris doesn’t know who did she said it to. “Markus, he’s one of them,” North says with contempt that puts ice on Chris’s bloodstream.

Markus lets go of Chris and steps between him and North. “He was suffering with us, North, he’s one of us.”

“He left us behind! Like the rest of them!”

“He was a child. Younger than any of us then. And he didn’t torture us like the rest of them.”

Chris doesn’t remember that... all he remembers is hiding behind them whenever there’s rustling outside... oh.

“He’s fall victims to Thomas, as well,” Markus unhelpfully adds. Oh, that... Chris remembers that vividly now, great. “Chris?”

Chris snaps back to Markus’s kind eyes. Kind pretty eyes. One jade, one aquamarine, no matter how hard the time was and how tense everything is now, his eyes always seem kind.

“I... I just remembered everything today. I kept trying to forget whatever happened there.” Chris rubs the side of his head, there’s a build-up of an oncoming epic headache. He wants to shut his eyes and pretend that he’s not here, but he needs his eyes, he needs to be vigilant.

“Don’t you want to see them suffer, Chris?” Markus says, stepping into his zone, holding his hand. For a moment when they lock eyes, Chris felt his heart skipped a beat. “You might not remember but those kids... they often broke into the barn. Takes us outside in the day when we weren’t supposed to. They threaten to tell on us if we didn’t do everything they wanted. Then we rot there while they got adopted by a family that loves them. Don’t you think that’s unfair?”

The hostages squirms and mumbles. Chris locks eyes with the sad apologetic eyes of the hostages. North kicks them and hisses a bitter ‘be quiet!’

Chris felt there’s a tumor-like pressure in his heart, suffocating him. He doesn’t want to remember any of this... Yes, they were horrible, but they were kids. They were all only kids. Holding them accountable now years later is unjustifiable. The plan... he has to tell them the plan.

“Not to mention Thomas, and god knows how many of his policemen buddies that too us out ‘on a ride.’” Markus says, and that was the final line of Chris’s sanity.

“Stop!” Chris screams, stepping back from Markus. His heart beats wildly in his ribcage and his hands shaking uncontrollably. It doesn’t happen to him. It doesn’t happen to him anymore.

“They deserve justice for what they’ve done to us,” Markus says louder, more imposing, and those gentle beautiful eyes look pretty and dead like material jewels. “Everyone forgets us, forget what was done to us. Justice won't uphold people like us, Satria. We must take justice into our own hand, for they deserve it.”

Chris shakes his head, trying to breathe calmly while still maintaining eye contact. He can play his vulnerability to his advantage. They didn’t see him as a threat, and even North is less tense than before as she sees Chris in tears. Sure, Chris is not having the best time right now, but he still has not forgotten that he got work to do. Garcia’s plan only works if the Johnsons’ sons are still alive.

“How? How on earth are you going to do it? Killing them?” Chris's hiccups are real, there’s rage in his voice, which is also real. He missed them, but they’ve killed people that don’t deserve it. It’s hard to forgive, still, he missed them, and he somehow understood the reason for this blood bath. The confidence, however, is faker than the fake ass hoes he’d had as friends.

“They deserve it,” North comes up from staying behind with the hostages.

“Thomas maybe, but not them...” Chris says again with fake confidence. “... Not them.... if you killed them then you’d have to kill me too.” That’s bold. That’s brave. But dear Chris, that’s lowkey stupid. Chris is confident in his bargaining skill, half because he can fake confidence well. They’re buying it, see?

North is this close to pulling the trigger until Markus comes between them.

“You don’t know the length of what they did. You were gone, and you forgot,” Markus says patiently.

“What about the Johnsons’ evil spawns?” Chris spits, calling them what they nicknamed them then. “You kidnapped them, but you didn’t kill them? What sense of justice is that? After what they’ve done.”

North chuckles evilly. The smirk on her pale pink lips seems to resemblance to satan themselves. “They’re getting what they deserve.”

‘Getting.’ Continous present tense. Okay, they’re alive.

“Are... are they dead?” Chris asks.

“What is it to you?” Markus narrows his eyes at Chris.

“They’re offering a way out, no listen to me please,” Chris fake sobs when they retreat, and his sobs are top-notch and convincing from lots of practice, also he was a theater kid in high school. You can hear the lump on his throat, the break of his voice, the frown of his lips, tearful eyes, all that good shit. “They interrogated me about the Johnsons, they dig everything about them. Everything. They knew they were selling us, what they did to us. They even track how much kids there were under them.”

Markus and North have hopeful eyes even though North still looks skeptical. It’s all Chris needs.

“They will expose them. I swear it, they will. I’ll help,” Chris gulps, he very much doesn’t want to but it’s the right thing to do, and it’s a long time coming. “I’ll testify. I’ll even have both you with Simon and Josh have a turn of the mic. They won't get away with it. We’ll drag their name through the mud. The Johnsons will be rolling in their graves.”

Markus keeps his eyes on North. They’re sharing something between looks that Chris can’t decipher. Markus finally looks at Chris, and it felt like judgment days.

“How do you know they’d do it?”

“First, they’ve already done it. Second, remember the guy I came here with? He’s the unit chief of the BAU team that’s been tracking you guys and happens to be my boyfriend. The team is my friends, and safe to say, all of them are pissed after I told them what happened. One really scary techie digs in so deep the Johnsons is might as well butt naked with all their filth out in the open sun.”

Chris is losing them, it does seem convenient that he happens to date the FBI agent he came up with. Time for bold measures.

“Look, I’m going to reach for my phone, don’t shoot me please.” Chris goes down into his pocket and digs out his phone. “Go to the gallery, you’ll see me frenching the guy. Go back to a year before. We’ve been dating for almost two years.”

Markus takes Chris’s phone with a twitch of an eyebrow, but he starts scrolling anyway.

“You can also lookup the Johnsons,” Chris adds, “They’ve leaked the information about their multiple accounts, and the different orphanage that links to them. That’s why there’s a media riot outside.”

“I’ll use my phone,” North says to Markus, and she stares at Chris’s phone like it’s a cross and it’s making her burn.

Markus nods and hands Chris the phone. There’s a bittersweet look to his hero’s face. “You look happy,” Markus says with a soft smile.

Chris looks down at his phone and sees a selfie he did with Aaron when he was on the way to Rossi’s Christmas/Newyear party. Aaron looked good, and Chris does too, so why not pop a picture? Aaron has his arms around his waist, Chris has his arm around Aaron’s shoulder and they’re cheek to cheek. Their smiles are wide and happy. There’s a pang on Chris’s chest, he doesn’t know what it meant.

“I am...” Chris whimpers as he looks back up to Markus, he seems tired but staying strong. He had always fight to stay strong ever since they were little. Chris wondered if Markus never gets to rest from the fight. Where did Markus end up as? Did he have a happy life? “Are you?”

“Am I what?” Markus asks evenly as if already knowing what Chris wants to ask but wants to hear it anyway.

“Before this, did you ever get to be happy?”

Markus seems to contemplate and casts his eyes to the side, “I feel comfortable here and there. Carl is peculiar, yet kind, but he’s still my owner, he never let me forget that. All of us that was sold was never truly free, our owner holds us by the scruff of our necks, not until we took it.” Chris felt his hands clammed up. All these years, Markus was sold, they’re all were. No wonder.

“I’ll be happy once we have our freedom,” Markus says in an ice-cold tone that sent shivers down his spine.

“That’s right,” North says in fire, in contrast to Markus’s ice. She shoves her phone for Markus to read as she steps in and Markus steps back. “Markus lives as a replacement of a dead kid, sexually assaulted by his so-called dad for a ‘muse’.” The bluntness of her words almost makes Chris flinched.

“I’m a trophy wife, my bastard of a husband and owner kept me under lock and key as he fucks everything that moves. Josh doesn’t get a cent out of his pay because he gave all of it to his owner for all his life, he’s a real modern-day slave to his racist owner. Simon was bound to a marriage to cover some politician’s daughter’s image. Rich influential people,” North spits. “We are all bought by rich people that could make us disappear if we misbehave. We are never free, how could you protect us? How could you free us when we ourselves don’t know the complexity of our shackles?”

North stands tall, imposing, angry. She used to make Chris cower or protected him with all her glory. It’s different now. Chris is his own man, he’s not offering empty promises.

“I left you behind once, I’m not leaving until you’re free. I owe my freedom to all of you,” Chris bore his eyes in North’s and stare at Markus who’s returns the gaze. “I trust this team. They’re doing what’s right, and they won’t leave a stone unturned.” Or more like Penelope Garcia won’t leave a stone unturned. No one can hide from Penelope Garcia.

One thing Chris can’t do is exonerate them, but Chris can’t say that. They need to feel they’re secure enough to give up, and not gamble with jail. They have committed murder, and there’s a high probability that they serve jail time. Their first step as a free man ever since they were children would be in jail. Is that fair? Is that justice? Chris looks down at the hostages, and think of the people they’ve killed. All this rage, because some kids bullied them, on top of injustice, on top of their taken freedom. Chris hates that even with all this bloodbath, he doesn’t blame the killers.

“North,” Markus calls, and by the fond voice, North’s fury resurfaced hot and fresh.

“No, Markus,” North steps back and points her gun at the hostages. Chris tenses but keeps put. “We knew what we were both walking into when we made this plan. This was not just vengeance nor justice. This is our freedom.”

Chris takes a look at North's determined face to Markus’ unfazed ones.

“I know,” Markus soothes. “This is us, not him.”

It doesn’t take much to know what that look means, what the point of the gun means. They’re a group of highly intelligent people that’s emotionally compromised. Hotch’s team thought they got the unsub cornered, and they did, but it doesn’t matter to the perpetrators. Eerily, they have a look of peace.

“No,” Chris shakes his head. It’s both an act and genuine. His job is to make sure as many people as he can to get out of here alive. Chris is also genuinely horrified that this is their mission in the end, that they’re making a suicide pact. “I just got you, please, let me help,” Chris begged, his throat closing up.

“You can join us then, Satria,” North says, and her offer of freedom is paired with the first genuinely kind expression she showed to him today. It’s morbid, yet bittersweet. This is the North Chris knew. This is the North that made him felt safe.

“No need, he is already free,” Markus links his hands with North’s free hand.

North smiles bitterly and Chris sees her hands tightening as the gun pointed at one of the hostages.

Chris charges. He felt a pair of hands around his torso stopping him, but Chris reaches his target, North’s hands.

He holds North’s hands, and push the gun upwards as he tried to get her fingers away from the trigger. Markus is holding him back, but Chris steps hard on Markus’s foot and knocks his head back to hit Markus’s face while trying to take North’s gun away. Markus then lets him go, and that’s when Chris needs another solution fast because Markus also has a gun. Chris spins him around so North would face Markus instead. Over her shoulder, Chris sees Markus pointing his gun at them.

“Shoot, Markus!” North exclaims.

“Please put your gun down! Think about this, you can walk out of here free! For Simon and Josh too!” Chris yells.

“That’s fucking bullshit, we will be in prison for life, or worse... Argh!” North tried to stomp on his feet. That hurts, but manageable for his formidable boots. “Our owners will buy a way back to get us!”

“I won’t let them! Please-”

Chris is cut when North pulls the gun towards her chest instead. Chris is holding onto her fingers from pulling the trigger. They lock eyes, and Chris felt like he couldn’t breathe.0

“You don’t know the lengths our owner will put to tighten the chains around our neck, and these chains last for life. You don’t know this world, Chris. Look at me.” There are tears in her warm brown eyes. “My youth is wasted in the hands of a powerful man that never loves me, treats me like an asset instead of people, and I would be an asset... for the rest of my life. My husband will do anything for his image. He has ties to the FBI. I can’t escape, this is my freedom. If you are the detective you are, let me have this justice.”

For a moment, Chris was stunned by the weight of her words, and the desperation. She was about to pull the trigger but Chris swerve the gun to the side and the bullet hit’s the floor behind her. Chris sees the uncertainty in Markus’s eyes and the absolute fury in North’s.

“No one... No one gets in between me and my freedom!” North roars, and throws her whole weight onto Chris. The hostages are behind his knees and he trips to his back.

North climbs on top of Chris, and after gathering his composure, a barrel of a gun staring at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Plays Roundabout by Yes*
> 
> Open to critics. Comments and Kudos if you like this~
> 
> Please tell me if there's a tag I need to add  
> 
> 
> [find me on tumblr!](https://emotionalcello-makefanfics.tumblr.com/)


	4. Have you ever feel like a plastic bag?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> READ: MENTION OF SELF HARM.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy new year. Fuck this year.

All life drained from his body when Hotch hears gunshots from the shipment building. Everything fell to a second of absolute silence. Not even the press peeps a sound. Only the cop cars and ambulance.

The world sways and ran out of air. Hotch force a deep breath and firm his feet.

“Chris...” Hotch breathed like a prayer and he’s running into the building with his gun on hand without a second thought.

From their waiting point to the building is the longest hundred meter Hotch has ever run.

How many times must it take for Hotch to understand? How many more of his loved ones must he lose to understand? Everyone leaves once comes across his job. In whichever way, they all leave.

‘I’m losing Chris.’ Aaron thought, but Hotch doesn’t take conclusion until there’s proof. ‘I lost him,’ Aaron thinks and he believes it. He always lost them. He’s an absolute moron to think that doing the same thing will result differently. All of his loved ones are lost to his job. He had opportunities to stop Chris from getting involved but Hotch chooses his job over Chris’s well-being over and over again. Now he lost Chris, he only had himself to blame.

His heart pounds when he reaches the door. There’s a millisecond hesitation when his mind flashed back to Hailey and Jack. Their bloodied bodies and faces as he opened the door.

Hotch charges in and sees a body on the floor.

Chris looks distraught, holding onto Julia’s body, but keeping his eyes on Markus who’s still has a gun in his hand, pointing it at Chris. The hostages are safe, all of them still alive.

Relieve washes over like a prickling warmth across his back when he sees Chris alive, breathing. But he can’t lower his guard just yet, Markus is still with a gun.

Chris’s widen eyes don’t see Hotch yet, but his hand extends to him to gesture Hotch to stay back. In turn, Hotch closes the door behind him and signals the people that followed him to stay back.

“Markus please,” Chris sobs, laying Julia gently down. Slowly, Chris stands up. “Carl is dead, you’re free, there’s no reason to do this,” he begged, but it falls to deaf ears as Markus shows no reaction to it.

Hotch tried to see a leeway, but there’s none. He’s too far from Markus to neutralize him.

Markus smiles fondly, “Satria,” he calls gently, and Chris stiffens at the name, not just any name. It’s Chris’s first name before Matty legally changed it. “I’m glad to see you one last time. I’m relieved that you’re safe and happy. We’ve mourned you, and all this time, you are in our memory.”

“Markus-”

“Close your eyes, little knight.” Markus pulls his hand and directs the gun to his head.

“NO!” Chris charges, but even Hotch knows Chris won’t make it.

Hotch tried to grab Chris but he’s too fast, and his heart almost jumped out of his throat when Chris formidably reached Markus. He pins down the unsub, holding the gun away from himself. Markus then aims the gun towards Chris, and something possessed Hotch. His legs move by themselves, and he sees Markus’s finger on the trigger. Without thinking further, Aaron yanked the gun away towards himself. The gun blasted a hair-thin away from Chris’s head. The bullet split Chris’s ear shell and all Hotch sees is red.

Chris isn’t phased, he’s focused on getting the gun away.

“There is no saving us, little knight, let us go,” Markus says to Chris, and that seems to phase Chris.

Markus can’t compare to the strength of two men holding him, and Hotch screams for the reinforcement to enter. In split seconds, two policemen pin Markus down in their stead and Hotch pulls Chris to stand aside as the police and paramedics work on the scene. Chris’s eyes still nailed faithfully to Markus even after he’s taken out of the building.

It takes a few seconds, but Chris is finally taken to his surrounding. Julia’s body, the hostages being untied, and finally Hotch. Meeting eyes, both of them seem to take a sharp deep breath. He doesn’t know what Chris sees, but Hotch sees red on Chris’s blue jeans shirt and jacket. The one on his knees and thighs are from Julia’s. The one dripping down the side of his face and neck is from his chipped ear. Chris seems to only realize then that he has a split ear. His fingers touched his ear until he found the little chunk missing from the leaf of the ear.

“Damn,” Chris says when he sees his finger covered in blood from the ear. “Did I lose my ear?”

“No, it’s just a scrape,” Hotch reaches out but Chris flinch away, eyes wavering, downcasted, looking everywhere for something that’s not on the floor.

“Am I still pretty?”

Hotch wants to chuckle, but the blood and Chris’s shock holds him back. He reaches out again, “No chunk of flesh can make you any less beautiful in my eyes.”

Chris flinches away again, he sobs this time, “Don’t touch me, I’ll get blood on your suit.”

Hotch sighs, he doesn’t want to take Chris’s reasoning at value, but it seems that Chris really means it. “How about my hand?”

“There’s blood on my hands.”

“It’s easy to wash.”

Chris sighs shakily, and there’s a sad smile across his face when he nods.

They walk hand in hand out of the building, where the light is red, blue, and white flashes in the distance from the press behind the rows of black vans and police cars. Hotch directs him right to the back of an open ambulance, he sits him there, and a paramedic immediately tends to him.

“I need you to hold it, okay? This going to sting,” the paramedic says gently, seemingly to know that Chris is shaken. Chris’s hands balled on top of his blood-soaked jeans as the paramedic dabs a cotton soaked disinfectant to his ear.

Everything feels quieter, and the night still. Chris’s eyes perched into the ground as he stares at nothing. Hotch walks near and hears the familiar murmur Chris says under his breath.

Chris spins his head towards Aaron slowly and stares blankly. Aaron has seen this look before, he has it whenever he chants ‘it’s not happening to me.’

“This _is_ happening to me,” Chris says, his hands move to cover his face but stopped when he’s reminded of the blood there. It’s drying and now dark red.

“Let’s get your hands cleaned,” Aaron holds out his hand, the other is holding bottled water.

While the paramedic is putting a bandage on the ear, Aaron sits with him on the other side of the bleeding ear. Chris faces outside and Aaron pulls the hand to outstretch them to the front and washes them without the water landing on his jeans. For a while, Chris’s hand didn’t move, and Aaron has to rub both hands to clean it. The first bottle is used thoroughly while Aaron looks for any cuts on his hands. By the second bottle, the paramedic has left Chris with a neatly bandaged ear and a prescription for an antibiotic in case Chris has an infection from the wound. Chris’s hands move to remove the dirt and hold onto Aaron’s.

Aaron snaps his eyes up to Chris who’s already looking at him, smiling weakly.

“What a day huh?” Chris croaks.

“Here,” Aaron hands him the half-used second bottle for Chris to drink. Chris finishes it in two big gulps. “How are you feeling?”

“Like prom...” Chris shivers.

“And that’s... a bad thing?”

“Oh honey, my prom was marked as the worst prom in the country. There was blood, tears, and guns. Very fitting, right?” Chris weakly chuckles. Weak as it may be, Aaron is instantly relieved that Chris has his smile back. The hollow eyes and blank look on him were haunting.

Aaron sighed shakily and hold dear the damp hands in his. Chris sniffs softly, a smile still on his face but undoubtedly, his complexion is exhausted. His shoulder slumps and he’s leaning towards Aaron. He pulls Chris in and lays his head on his shoulder. With one arm draped on Chris’s shoulder, Aaron kisses the top of his head and rub his back.

“I want to go home,” Chris murmurs to Aaron’s neck. Aaron holds him tighter.

“I know...” Aaron says, gearing up to a ‘but’. Chris beats him to it.

“But they need to write my statements.”

“Yes.”

Chris takes a deep breath before leaning back looking at Aaron square in the eyes. He sighs when he takes in whatever he searched for in Aaron’s face. “Aaron, I-”

“Hotch!” calls Morgan’s voice. Both of them look to the agent, “We need you back at the office.”

And for Aaron, the world snaps into work mode. Morgan is right. They still don’t know the whereabouts of the Johnsons’ sons. They’d need to question Markus and Jonathan.

“North... I mean, Julia told me the Johnsons’ sons are still alive. She said they’re getting what they deserve,” Chris informs, then he tried to assure Hotch with a pat on the face.

Hotch and Morgan share a look and Morgan nods before getting his phone.

“Go,” Chris pats Hotch’s chest.

“I’ll tell one of the officers to drive you home.”

“No need, baby. I can do that on my own.” Chris leans in and kisses him on the corner of his lips then hops off the ambulance. “Go.”

Hotch doesn’t let the tug on his chest holds him back, and nod. Chris walks away from the ambulance as Hotch march to his van while calling the nearest officer and ask him to question Chris. Morgan came back from the phone call and hops into the passenger seat next to Hotch.

He ignores the second tug on his chest when he sees Chris takes by the officer with the same haunted look as if they’d never changed from the start. Blood on his shirt, down his neck, all over his jeans. The cut on his ear was a reminder of the worst circumstances had Hotch been too late. No time to waste. Three lives at stake.

At the next breath, Hotch turns the engine and pulls to the street, choosing his job all over again.

+++++

Chris doesn’t remember getting to the train, nor walking towards Haily’s apartment. When he snaps out of it, his brain felt like he’s crashing from caffeine. Every wight makes itself known and he’s just so tired and lost. On the verge of tears, he’s dialing Haily’s phone.

“Chris, what the actual fuck? It’s 5 AM.”

“I’m outside of your window, now come down before I start playing Wrecking Ball.”

“Holy shit,” Haily curses. She would’ve cursed AT Chris had not his voice shakes like a neighing baby horse nor implying to play the coded song for dumpster fire situations. From one of the windows in the apartment, Haily’s head pokes out from the mid-fifth-floor balcony. “Do you wanna come up? Or am I going down?”

“Nah it’s cold, I’ll come up. Hope you don’t mind I’m dirty.”

Haily disappears into her apartment, “You’ve come in worse before. I’ve rung you in.”

“Cool,” Chris stays in line as he steps into the apartment. The security guard sees Chris, sees the blood, and just sighed and lets him go. Chris should tell Haily about that.

“You want some tequila?” Asks Haily from the other line.

“I shouldn’t drink when I’m emotionally vulnerable.”

“How bout some kush?”

“Haily... we’re police officers. Those were prescripted for Jim, it’ll be illegal.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Haily grunts.

Chris knocks on the door and hangs up. Haily opens the door with her face all tangled up and eyes droopy from sleep. It takes a few seconds for her to register the brown on Chris’s outfit is not dirt. Her blue eyes balked at the stain and Chris’s ear.

“Chris, did you kill someone?” Haily whispers affectionally, looking around the corridor to watch out. She then pulls Chris in. “What happened?”

“Someone died, not by my hands, but it sure feels like it.”

Just like that, Haily’s tenseness softens as she understood. She still understands if Chris had killed someone, just those perks of a job.

“I thought you’re just testifying.”

“Plans changed. I negotiate too.”

“Shit. You want juice?”

“What do you got?” Chris walks in familiarly and goes straight to his confessional dining chair.

Haily drags her feet to the fridge and squints when the light of the fridge hits her face. “Orange, apple, pomegrant...”

“PomegraNATE,” Chris corrects.

“Geez, okay, Mr. Grammarnazi,” Haily sassed.

“I want orange. Wait, I brought a cup for the juice,” Chris says, whipping out Reid’s cup from his jacket that he stole from the office. You think Chris wouldn’t do it? Hah.

Haily only squints at the big cup but pour in almost all that’s in her bottle while she pours the rest into her daintier, ‘Live Laugh Love’ cup.

“So what’s the Wrecking ball situation?”

“You might want to sit down.”

Haily pauses and looks a little bit soberer. She sits down and they take their cups. Her eyes open wide, baby blue that glows even when the room is dark and the only light came from the windows. Oh, the setting is perfect for the revelation to come. Chris groans at the universe that do be like this.

“The call I got was from Aaron’s team about the case he’s working on. It’s about the Johnsons.”

Haily is fully woken up when she hears the surname again after many years. Her red claws tighten on her dainty ‘Live Laugh Love’ cup she bought ironically.

“Holy fucking shit, they’re still alive?”

“Nope, and can you figure how they died?”

“Oh please please please,” Haily closes her eyes and put her hands together to pray. “Please let it be eaten alive by a rabid dog. Or a raccoon. Or a meat-eating turtle. Killed by a dedicated duck?”

“What the fuck. No. They died peacefully in their sleep as one of the Johnsons’ sons, Monty out of all their kids, got interviewed for a newspaper in a column called ‘Unsung Heroes’.”

Haily’s jaw hits the table, “Motherfucker.”

“Uh-huh,” Chris sips his orange juice. Citrus flavors, his favorite to cheer himself up. He taps on the glass and preps himself for the hard question. “They seem to think there’s a leak inside our precinct because the body count picks up after I texted in the group chat.”

Haily quirk and eyebrow and huffs degradingly, “I’m offended that you’re insinuating that I have anything to do with this fiasco.”

“And I’m offended that you think that I’m insinuation that you have anything to do with this fiasco.”

After a few seconds of staring they both burst into a tired chuckle.

“Are we gonna expect the feds at the office?” Haily asks, sighing and putting her face on her palm.

“Don’t know, it’s out of my hands now, and I’m on leave tomorrow. Well, technically today.” A day isn’t tomorrow unless he has slept. Period.

“Please tell me the Johnsons' sons, fuck that’s a tongue twister, ugh, tell me they’re in jail.” Lethargy seems to come back to her face. Well, not until this last zinger. Chris does contemplate whether or not he should share details of the case with an outsider. He shouldn’t, but this is his bestie and he’s willing to bet his life that Haily isn’t the leak.

“No... not yet at least. North implies that they’re still alive,” Chris says tensely and waits.

Haily nods along at first then she registered her name. Now her eyes are completely open wide, back straight and her palm digging into her mug. “North... _that_ North?”

“Yup,” Chris popped the p, pressing his lips tensely as he was reminded of North’s fate. He felt the orange juice in his stomach swirl.

Haily covers her gaping mouth with her trembling hands. The eyes of blue glitters with pooling tears.

“They’re alive?” Haily softly whispers in disbelieve, leaning in with hope, and a little bit of Chris breaks.

“They were... they were the perpetrators.”

“They?” Haily perks up.

“Yeah, Markus, North, Simon, and Josh.”

Haily chuckles weakly, “The whole gang...”

“I know... what are the odds that they get together again.”

Haily’s lips trembles as she shakes her head, “Did they make you remember?” Chris knows this is a different they. They as in Aaron’s team.

“They did,” Chris weakly, no one would’ve heard if the room wasn’t so quiet. The tightness in his chest returns, tightening ever so crushingly, but he bears the pain now because he shares it with Haily. She knows this pain, even if it’s different.

“You should’ve called me... I could’ve told them instead,” Haily says.

“I can’t subject you to that trauma.”

“But you could to yourself?” Haily sassed.

“They needed someone from the other house anyway. I’m a better informant, and you were way younger than me. Can you even remember it again?”

“I could try...” Haily then wilts when she tries to remember, “I don’t know.”

Chris and Haily met when Matty moves them to Washington, they’re neighbors in Matty’s house and becomes fast friends. But Chris knows something Haily doesn’t. He knew that cute child with pale blond hair and blue eyes anywhere and Haily didn’t remember Chris at first. One day, after Chris moved out, a year after Matty died Chris almost spends every day drunk, he spilled the beans to Haily. That Chris recognized her from the Johnsons’ house.

Save to say the hangover is paired with tears when Haily said he did remember Chris, but never realized that it was Chris. They talked briefly of Markus and his friends, things got gloomy and past Chris is anti-gloomy and pro-alcohol.

“They were killing the kids from the main houses. You could’ve been killed,” Chris says.

Haily bites her lips, holding back pain. She soon retracts it with acception. “I wouldn’t blame them. After Thomas and his goons brought them back, they were treated horrifyingly...”

Chris looks down to his juice, “How long were they in that house after?”

“I don’t really remember. When I was adopted they were still there.” They fell to another silence before Haily adds, “But would they?”

“What’re we talking ‘bout?”

“Would they really have killed me?”

“You want to meet them?”

Haily looks like she’s remembering something as her eyes reminisce. “I spent more time with them after you left. I wonder if they knew me.”

“Oh... you never told me about this,” Chris isn’t mad, but he’s just... surprised. He thought he knows everything there needs to know about Haily. Well not everything... still, at this part at least he thought he was confident it.

“I tried to, but you didn’t react well whenever I talked about the foster house, so I just don’t anymore.”

Yeah, that’s Chris’s fault then.

Chris sighed tiredly and rubs his face, “I saw you on the pictures of kids they gave me.” Haily tenses. “I don’t know if they’d let anyone see Markus, but I’ll try.”

“What about North? And the rest?”

Chris’ throat closed up as his mind flashed to the last hour. His hands squeeze his juice cup, he blinks and thought he saw red still staining his hands.

“North died.”

“No... North? She wouldn’t do that she...” Haily stops talking, realizing the flaw in her logic. She grabs Chris’s hands, “Did you witness it?”

Chris nods, “They made a suicide pact.” Chris felt the word left a bitter taste on his tongue. “They were all sold, Haily,” Chris looks up to Haily and feel his tears weighing in. “All these years, all this time, they were under shackles by their ‘owners’ and they see their only escape is... And I didn’t blame them for that, I think I would’ve done the same thing, for freedom.”

There was a time when Chris was young that he contemplates the thought when the past doesn’t seem to give him a break. Chris had run free from the torture, but he felt like he always actively running. Being with Matty helps... hell, being with that bitchy cat Rosco helps. When they died, the well he fell into is deeper than when he was found in the church. Chris remembers hurting, every single day for years. The relationships he’s in always suffer but serves as a distraction.

He ran from that pain then, and he’s still running from it all since he was 13, till now he’s in his 40s.

“Did all of them died?” Haily asks weakly.

“Markus is alive, I stopped him. I don’t know about Simon and Josh, but I knew they were on the way to take them in.” Chris sighs. “I wish they’re still alive. Garcia said that an interview of the victims would be solid evidence to put them in jail. Fuck there might need to be a trial.”

“I’ll testify.” Haily hardens her stare.

“You sure? You’ll get outed.”

“I’m comfortable with who I am now. If they ask you then it doesn’t have to come from me, and I want to help.”

Chris nods, “We’ll talk with Garcia in the morning.”

“No, tomorrow.”

“Yeah yeah, it’s technically already tomorrow.”

“No, I meant tomorrow, Chris. The day after today. You need to rest.”

“It’s fine, I’m fine.”

“You’re tired, it affects your complexion. You’re starting to look your age.”

“Fuck, I need to go to sleep.”

Haily chuckles lightly, and Chris smiles at her. They’ve come a long way from the Johnsons. Chris thought life was finally giving him a reward when he realized how lucky he was to be neighbors with Haily. What are the chances that they meet again thousands of miles away from their foster home?

Haily got adopted into a loving family that accepts her for who she is. Haily’s parents are wonderful, both to their kids and to Matty and Chris. Chris still calls them at least every year at Christmas and sends them gifts, but he can’t make himself return to Matty’s home. It’s been a decade since they see him face to face.

Chris feels like a dick.

“Hey, are your parents still asking about me?” Chris asks out of the blue.

“Yeah, they asked if you can come for Christmas, every year.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Haily gave Chris an unimpressed eyebrow raise.

“What?”

“You clammed up whenever my parents asked about you to come back, last time they asked you to come for thanksgiving you had a panic attack,” Haily sighed, her hand on top of Chris and her thumb rubbing soothingly. “They understood that you don’t want to go back.”

Chris feels like a dick (2).

The last time Chris came back home was in his late twenties, and only God knows when exactly it was, Chris doesn’t remember much from that era of his age. Chris owed Haily’s parents a lifetime of gratitude, even though they kept saying it’s nothing. When Matty died, they took him in, helped him get back to his feet, and let Chris live with them while Chris finishes police training and got a job. They lend him money so Chris can rent a close space and moved out.

All they asked is coming over once in a while but even that Chris can’t do.

“I’ll come over sometime near.”

“You sure about that?”

“It’s about time.”

“What brought this on?” Haily asks not unkindly, but Chris felt like he has reached maximum dick mode.

Chris rubs his face, wrinkles be damned, “Markus called me by my name.” He felt his eyes sting when he reopens his eyes. No tears are coming. He had cried all his tears in the subway, good thing it was in the buttcrack of the morning and no one bothered him. He did get glances because of the blood, that’s it. “It brings back memories, but despite the bad ones, I remember the good ones too. They were like my older siblings for me. It was a feeling I forgot along with everything. It’s not fair that I lump your parents to my bad memories of Matty’s loss.”

The silence stretched then, and Haily seems to contemplate something.

“What was your name?” Haily asked.

Chris smiled, “Satria.”

Remembering that one word resurfaced a lot of other memories. He used to live in a mansion, his mom only knows broken English, but she still tells stories every time Chris goes to bed. She told him stories of Indonesia, of her hometown in Tenggarong. Stories about the big river Mahakam, visiting Samarinda, and people building their houses on the green hills. His father is seldom home, but whenever he does it was a game of chance. He’s either very upset or very esthetic.

Maybe it’s better that his mom is back in her home country now. Chris remembered that she doesn’t have many friends. The moms of his friends at school always seem to bundle up and chat, but his mom never joined and waited for him quietly.

“It’s a nice name,” Haily says.

“Thanks.”

“Do you wanna crash here?” Haily says. Every time Chris is having an emotional crisis he seeks people, he didn’t want to be alone. Aaron is still on the case, so Haily automatically offers.

“Odd thing is... I want to be alone tonight.”

Haily squints her eyes and squeezed Chris’s hand persistently, “No.”

“Haily, I’m not up to anything dangerous. You know I’m better than that now.” Haily’s eyes bore deep and Chris persists, “Promise.”

It takes a few seconds, but Haily is finally convinced, “Fine, but text me as soon as you wake up.”

“Okay, I will.”

Chris gives Haily one more hug before he’s off to his home with his stolen cup filled with orange juice, and blood on himself. He didn’t remember how he got to Haily’s place, but now, every step to his home is embedded in his memory. Walking down the road, sipping his juice, the smell of rusty iron, he wonders if Aaron would find the Johnsons’ sons. Chris wants to root for his boyfriend, but deep down, whatever North is indicating, it sounds heinous but deserving.

The sons pick on them, the biggest one delivers them somewhere in the depths of the woods and never to be seen again. They also tell on them if they caught a whiff of misbehavior. And that cop... that’s where Chris draws the line. He doesn’t need to remember this.

Isn’t it funny? Chris used to hate cops because of Thomas. It made trusting Matty way harder than it should’ve been. But when Matty offers a home, Chris would rather do that than going to another foster home or orphanage. It was hard, and Chris had said some nasty things, but Matty was patient, joyful, positive. Chris can’t pinpoint when, but Matty made Chris forgot about Thomas, and now Chris is a cop too.

Now Chris remembers everything, and he wants to forget it all.

As soon as Chris is home, he does an emotional detox. Shower with warm water then prepares a bubble bath with a pink bath bomb and lavender bath salts. He puts on youtube while he soaks in a pastel purple water with floating orange mineral glitter, accompanied by his stolen cup now filled with light beer. He rarely drinks beer but Chris kept it in the fridge for emergencies only. He watches Jenna Marbles to cleanse himself of the doom on earth.

After thoroughly cleaned, he puts on the softest pants he has and Aaron’s shirt that ~~Chris stole~~ he left behind when he slept over. He put on an extra night skincare routine, rose toners, soothing cica serums, and aloe moisturizers. He goes to his usual couch, bringing the big Rosco cat plushie to cuddle and put on Netflix. He browses the comedy genre and spots a Chinese comedy called Kung Fu Hustle. He orders some Chinese take out because fuck it, today’s coping is Chinese themed.

Chris is having mighty good fun halfway through a movie and a serving of chow mien with orange chicken when he sees his phone lighting up. It’s a text from Aaron.

From Aaron: Tell me when you’ve arrived home.

From Aaron: Are you home?

The first text is two hours ago. Oh shit, Chris didn’t feel his phone vibrates through his demise and the train.

To Aaron: Yeah boo, sorry I was @hails. I’ve bathed, fed, and hydrated.

Wait, is he hydrated? He just drank orange juice then now light beer. Before the juice, he drank the water Aaron gave after cleaning his bloody hands. Chris looks down at his hands, they’re clean and smells like lavender and Chinese food. There are little specks under his nails, leftover from the blood. Chris fetch a nail clipper and clip his nails short so nothing could go under.

After his nails are clean, he lays back down to Rosco with his stolen cup now filled with water and browses more Stephen Chow comedy movies. He’s torn between Shaolin Soccer and CJ7 when another text came.

From Aaron: Will you be up an hour from now?

Chris doesn’t think he can sleep tonight.

To Aaron: Totes.

From Aaron: Can I call you then?

To Aaron: !!! yes!

Chris doesn’t know if he’ll have the mental capacity for that honestly, but statistically and historically speaking, whenever Chris feels like shit and does not want to talk to anyone, he always felt better when he still talks to Aaron anyway. So, he’s gonna trust his homemade statistic than his feelings.

The girl in the Shaolin Soccer movie is making mochis seasoned with her literal tears when Chris starts to slip away to sleep. He’s drooling over to Rosco with dropping lids when he’s woken up by his ringtone ‘Party in the USA.’

Chris jolts up, wipes his drool, and instantly on high alert. He looks around for Miley’s voice and his phone is on the floor, displaying ‘Aaron<3’ on the screen.

“Hey, baby!” Chris says probably louder than needs to be to compensate for his tiredness.

“Sorry, did I wake you up?” And of course, the profiler still sees through him.

“Almost did, but I was waiting up for you anyway. So, what’s up?”

“Just checking...” Aaron paused then, “I was worried.”

“Oh, yeah sorry I didn’t see your first text,” _I was crying in the train while actively not trying to bother how people look at me because I look like I just came out of the set of ‘Carrie’._ Chris doesn’t feel like it’ll help anyone if he said that anyway.

“Do you need to talk?” Ah, so that’s what this call is about.

“Not really, I just talked to Haily... Oh and speaking of Haily, I told her about today... Um, none of it is classified, right?”

“No, it’s out in the media, and Garcia is planning to be in the office all night with JJ to make sure every little dirt is shown to the media.”

Chris paused, baffled between fear and gratefulness. “Wow, that’s... great, but... what about this little thing called sleep? The last time I saw her, her mascara chipped everywhere, that never happened. She needs rest.”

“I’ve told them that. I’ve sent them home, they should be resting.”

Them... Chris is thinking back to the interrogation room. How he stutters at Thomas’s name, how enraged Reid was when he burst out of the room. In turn, Aaron looks soft and consoling, but the sharpness in his eyes and tightness of the lips shows how angry he truly was. What a bunch of profilers... can’t even hide a dirty little shameful secret around them. They always caught a whiff.

“Haily wanted to testify,” Chris says a little bit out of his energy. “Maybe I’ll tell Garcia that tomorrow.”

“Haily?” Aaron asks curiously. Well, cat’s gotta be out of the bag either way.

“Yeah, she was one of the kids in the main house.”

“Why didn’t you tell us? She could’ve testified instead of you.”

“She was just a baby then. Well a toddler, she didn’t even remember much but me and the others. And it was just as traumatic for her. The Johnsons were very strict with the kids in the main house.”

“I see, I’ll pass the information. We’re grateful for the help.”

“M-hm.”

“Are you taking a day off tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

“By that, I meant tomorrow, not today that you didn’t think as tomorrow because you haven’t slept yet.”

“Oh... then no.”

“You should. You needed the break.”

Chris felt his body churn at the soft tone already, “I hate to treat it like a big deal. It happened years ago. The Johnsons are dead, nothing I can do about it, and their sons are going to get publicly shamed. I’ve forgotten chunks of what happened today already. I’m moving on quickly, it’ll be fine,” Chris rambles.

“That’s the right attitude to go for.... but...”

“I knew there’s a ‘but’ there.”

“You’re burying your problems, not dealing with it,” Aaron says that jab stoically, which aggravating.

“I _am_ dealing with it, by moving on.” Chris insists, feeling heat in his chest at Aaron’s accusations. “I’ve been moving on for years now and I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Oh shut up, you’re an expert of my own mental health now?” Chris snapped, finally. “You’re not my fucking psychologist!”

“But I am a profiler.” I saw you through a one-way mirror and it’s hard not to see that you have problems you haven’t ever dealt with,” Aaron said sharper, like scolding a child and Chris is so pissed off. He’s a grown man for fuck sake! “You haven’t moved on from it. You look away from it and whenever the past catches you, you clammed up. You can’t deal with it because you never faced it.”

“Shut up!” Chris yells to his phone, just as he yells to Markus, just as he yells to Haily way back when she jabbed him of turning to alcohol after he lost Matty. “I _am_ faced with it! I’ve faced it for years of my life and I never get on with my life. I’m choosing to move on with my life instead of being held back by the past!”

“Your behavior doesn’t show a man that has faced his past.”

“You don’t know shit!”

“All you did is run and pretend it’s not there,” Aaron says again, not bothering Chris’s response. “You said it’s not happening to you anymore, but you tried to make yourself believe it _never_ happened to you. But it did. All of this happened to you-”

“It sucks! Fine! What happened sucks! So what! I can’t do anything about it!” Chris screamed, his face feels hot and his heart burns with shame, anger, and fear.

Fear of the anger that he couldn’t stop. Shame of throwing up all this anger again.

“I can’t do anything when my fucking brain takes me to that fucking nightmare house. And I can’t do anything when I kept remembering Thomas pushing me to-” Chris bites his lips till it bleeds. It’s not happening to him anymore. It’s not. “I can’t do anything about Matty dying! I can’t bring him back. I can’t do anything but move on because my life still continues. What else am I supposed to do but move on! Everything else doesn’t work! Drugs, alcohol, and self-harm almost killed me. I’ve been dropped by 20 fucking therapists meanwhile my life goes on. I finished police academy in flying colors, I have my own apartment, I’m independent, I have a fulfilling job I wanted! And people need me!” Chris sobs the last sentence, the thread of words that made him choose his job despite everything.

The gratification from Matty and the feeling of fulfillment. People need him. He has no time to wallow. Something else is more important than him. Bigger than him. To prove to the world that there are good cops, to deny Thomas ever able to exist. He has no time for himself and his problems which is fine. His friends are wonderful, doing his job is satisfying, and he has the best boyfriend on earth, who currently is being not so best.

“Everything is great!”

But is it? Yes, it is, he remembered all the failed therapist said one thing in common. Tried to focus on the brighter side.

“Nothing is wrong with me!”

Not anymore. Not if he can help it.

“My future is bright!”

But it didn’t always felt that way.

“It doesn’t happen to me anymore!”

And his eyes sting when he hears himself chant it desperately. Years before this, he had chanted the same words over and over for every night before bed.

Sobs choke on his throat and now he’s full-blown crying instead of throwing words instead. There’s no sound from the other line, and for a moment Chris felt he’s alone with three decades of sorrows that are finally poured out of every pore of his being.

He hated crying. Yes, he might need it, but he’s just crying over something that he can’t change and it’s frustrating instead.

Crying didn’t stop his mother from leaving, nor stopping his dad from hitting him. Crying didn’t stop his fate from being kept like animals when he was abandoned. When he escaped with adrenaline and tension alone, he hated crying whenever the world turns to shit. He hated crying when he ended up in a cultist church. He hated crying when Matty died, nor after Rosco died, crying won't bring them back, but alcohol did make him forget. The haze of two years of alcoholism makes him forget what he was drinking for. The therapy after that, he blamed his lack of self-control for his alcoholism.

Everything swept under the rug, and he went on with his great life.

And it’s been a great life, but the plug has been pulled and the stream of memories that poured out is too strong to hold back.

Everything is great. Chris has a calm, sometimes exciting, and stable life being a self-sustaining adult in law enforcement.

Yet everything also still hurts.

Chris crouches to his sofa, pressing his tear-filled eyes with both hands when he realized Aaron is still on the line when his phone fell in front of him. Chris gasps, mortified after he just realized what he just said and done. But his throat is closing up and he just... couldn’t deal with Aaron right now. He should’ve trusted his feelings than his homemade statistic.

He needs to get back on track. He needs to calm himself down and... just forget today and everything else.

“Ca-ca-can I call you back?” Chris sounds so pathetic, but he didn’t care. He hates being spectated now that everything is fresh in his mind. “I-I-I’ll call soon a-a-a-after I stopped.”

“You don’t have to hang up,” Aaron's voice is calm and soft, and Chris doesn’t know why Aaron can still do that when Chris hadn’t apologized yet. “It’s going to be okay Chris.”

Chris wants to believe him, truly he does. “I’m feeling disgusting,” Chris vented, and he sobs out.

“Why?”

“What do you fucking mean why?” Chris snaps again. “My dad sold me off and rather died in prison than see me. My mom doesn’t want to see me even knowing that I’m still alive. For years I’ve felt hollow and when I felt how it feels to be loved, Matty died and the rest of them either left or that I’m too much of a coward to face. And Haily’s parents have been asking me to come over but I’m too much of a coward to go back to Matty’s old house. I’m a fucking scum... I’m a mess right now Aaron don’t fucking try me! I don’t want to...” Chris’s anger quickly replaced by regret and more tears pour, “I don’t want to lose you too.”

There’s another pause from the other line and Chris sobs away. He felt himself spiral down to a bottomless pit, a feeling that’s sadly familiar to him. Everything that happened to him is piled up high. He’s so scared of losing Aaron, but he felt like he’ll always going to lose him anyway. If he let Aaron do his job, the case will take him. If he doesn’t let Aaron does his job then they’ll break up because Aaron’s job is the only thing he can’t compromise about which is fine. Which was fine. But it’s dreadful when your last chance of love is going to leave you early.

Chris’s constant rotating of partners has been out of fear of being alone. The dread of that loneliness has always taken a form of a lovechild between his loss for Matty and the abandonment of his parents.

Each partner he lost, he refuses to give up and refuses to stay single long. It’s scary when there’s no one to call his. Like no one would look if he disappeared.

“You will never stop hurting,” Aaron’s soft kind voice says, and Chris stares at the screen instead of gazing through a black hole in his mind. The screen is showing a picture of them together on a date a few months ago. They’re cheek to cheek, smiling ear to ear, a photo booth picture with a lot of hearts. It’s out of their age, but Chris said fuck it then. “But it will only get better once you’ve faced what happened to you.”

“And why should I listen to you?” Chris bites back not so harshly because he’s exhausted.

“I kept my son’s room furnished and for two years after his death, I pretended he was just off with his aunt, and I had only lost custody.”

Chris froze, stiff as cold steel. His heart is starting to hurt for other reasons.

“It’s easy to pretend when your profiler friends knew not to talk about it. They see me as a strong leader that bounces back as quickly only because I went back to the field as a distraction. It didn’t hurt then, because I refuse to believe my son died. Until the said aunt called me to check up on me at the anniversary of their death is that I’m faced with it again. It hurts just as much as the day I found their dead body even after two years.”

The sound from the other ends starts to sound weaker and Chris picks up his phone and presses it against his ear. He’s distracted, and now all he felt is worry.

“I took a time off and slept in my son’s bed for days while I finally mourn his loss after two years. A few months after that, I can finally clean up his room. A year after that I finally able to visit his grave without spiraling down.” Aaron sounds so tired, and Chris feels his heart tweaking at this piece of hurt.

“You’re in a better place than the past, you’re right about that, but the past still had happened, and it’s okay to let it catch up to you sometimes. You’re punishing yourself for remembering, for being too hung up on them or feel that it holds you back, but crying about it or feeling down because of it, doesn’t make it worth punishing. Bad things happen and we’re only human. You’re doing great for always pushing forward, but I worry when you’re not grieving properly. I worry if the past catches up again then I’ll lose you to the past.”

Chris is, for lack of the better word, feels like a dick. He knew there were several times he had frozen shut today and his mind going back to the Johnsons. It was scary because he doesn’t get to remember much, but when he does, everything still feels like it happened yesterday. The fear, the anxiety, and the despair for his life, all of it froze him shut. The horror and worry in Aaron’s face came back strong like a punch in the gut.

“Like today?” Chris asked meekly.

“Like today, and I’ll do anything necessary to not lose you. I can’t....” Chris hears the pause filled with deep breathing. “I can’t lose you too.”

Chris weeps again after hearing that. _You can’t lose me, but I can lose you?_ But Chris had done enough selfish things today. He still doesn’t know how he’ll face the insurmountable amount of grief that he had piled up over the years, but he’ll start with Aaron.

He imagined Aaron crying over his son’s bed. God, today is depressing, and Chris doesn’t want to be alone anymore. Turns out his homemade statistic was right, always has been.

“I wish you’re here,” Chris sighed, knees tucked to his chest, his plushie abandoned and incompetent. “I want to cuddle.”

“Me too. Open your door please.” Aaron’s voice is quiet and he’s still in a tearful wreck that he didn’t register Aaron’s words in the first seconds. Chris dropped his jaw, and stare at his front door. The moment his heart starts drumming he jumps out of the sofa.

In three wide steps, Chris reached his front door and yank it open. Aaron is standing waiting by the door with his phone on his ear. There’s sweat running down from his dark hairline down his jaws, and chest huffing up and down. His go-bag by his side clutched tightly.

Aaron comes here in a hurry, but how did he know? Chris often teased him about being psychics but not to this extent. Chris crumbles down in the next second. His phone taking a free fall from his hand and his body latching itself onto his boyfriend. His face hides into the crook of Aaron’s neck while Aaron cups his nape, rubs his back, and places his lips on his neck.

Chris feels he’s being moved, but he’s too busy crying. He just hears a thud of Aaron’s bag, a snap of door closing and he’s sat down to his bed. Aaron moves to leave the room and Chris holds his hand before he can keep his clinginess in check. Now Aaron has stopped and Chris now hyper-aware of the tears and snot in his face. Chris lets go of Aaron’s hand and wiped his face.

“Um...uh... How long are you staying?”

“Whole day.” Aaron sits back down, and Chris feels less tense.

But Chris understands the meaning of Aaron’s free time, “Did you find the rest of the Johnsons?”

“Yes.”

“Are they dead?”

It takes Aaron a few seconds to decide whether or not to tell Chris. “They were tortured for days. Two died, one heavily incapacitated.”

Chris had seen the look on North’s face when she said they’ll get what they deserved. North is ruthless even back when she was a kid. Now the fire was ignited after long she was shackled and...

Chris slumped back down to his bed, head hanging low as his eyes closed shut from remembering North’s death escaping his hands. It’s not happening to him anymore. It’s not happening, but it does happen. It had happened. North is gone before Chris gets to thank her, get to thank everyone. It hurts remembering North, remembering how she was the strongest kid out of the bunch of them and now she’s gone.

“What is it?” Aaron asked, hands on top of Chris’s, rubbing in soothing circles.

“North is gone,” Chris’s voice cracked, “It happened. She slips through my hands. Markus shot her to protect me, but she seemed thankful, and I felt guilty...”

“Why would you? You’re trying to stop her from shooting herself.”

Chris felt his eyes stings, but no tears came, “Because she looked so happy when she was dying. It was the freedom she longed for for years, and I wanted to stop her from it because I’m selfish. Then I stopped Markus too. I know supposedly it was the right thing to do, but I don’t... I don’t know.”

Aaron tucks him into his arms, and rock him gently, “You did what you could, Chris. You did what you could.”

And that was it with their line of job. Sometimes a situation doesn’t call for a right thing, but lesser than two evils, or just... doing what they could’ve done.

“I hated that it happened to me, I hated that it all happened to me. What did I do wrong? I was a baby. We’re all just kids... what did we do to deserve this?” Chris starts to ramble. The words were old. Ramblings of his teen self that he shuts up from ever voiced. Now they make their debut to the world and it felt wrong.

They were just kids, and there’s that. None of this was their fault. Bad luck doesn’t see age, skin, nor gender, and it treats all life equally. When luck had finally turned for Chris, he’s already crippled by grief to see any real light in life unless he wears glasses of ignorance.

It still hurts. It’s been years. Decades. Chris hates that everything still hurts him. Even Aaron will hurt him too. One day, Aaron will get hurt, and he’ll leave too long for Chris’s comfort and Chris will hurt for a long time. But not right now. Aaron isn’t the cause of his hurt, but his comfort, he always has. The hurt that’s coming is worth all the comfort Chris can get from Aaron.

“It’ll all be fine eventually.” Aaron kisses the top of his head. “Your sorrow needs to bleed out. You have a lot of things to mourn about, especially since you never started. But eventually, it’ll be okay.”

Chris had never pressed the ‘doubt’ button so hard, but he wants to trust Aaron on this. And trusting Aaron has always been so freeing.

“Please be here when I wake up.”

“I promise.”


	5. PenPinappleApplePen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plot here maybe clonky

Chris opens his crusty eyes and his face is sticky with tears. His ear kind of hurts now, and he forgot to get his prescription of antibiotics. He hits mental rock bottom yesterday or as civilized people say, ‘earlier today’.

He’s sitting up, staring into space, and the happenings of yesterday slowly ooze to his mind. God damn, that’s some nasty breakdown. To the face of Aaron out of all people. He thought only Haily can handle his emo breakdance. Speaking of Aaron. Chris looks to the side, and there his boyfriend is. Asleep in all his glory. He’s wearing Chris’s Prince t-shirt, and he looks mighty fine in it.

Then Chris began to worry and over-think. He wants to know how Markus is dealing with all of this. He might need to go to trial. He’d have to admit all the things he wanted to forget out to the people. Lot’s of people. He yelled at Aaron. North died, he didn’t know what happened with Simon and Josh yet.

So many things to think, but all Chris feels is numb.

“Chris?” Calls a groggy voice from beside him.

“Yea, babe?”

Aaron rubs his face and sits up. His dark eyes scan over Chris’s face. The light from the windows hits his eyes and Chris can see the olive green tint again. They look beautiful. Hands cradled his face and press his temple.

“Chris, you’re burning up,” Aaron says, eyebrows furrowed in worry.

“Yeah, that happens whenever I didn’t sleep enough, or just had a crying streak. It’s nothing serious, it’ll go down.”

“More likely that your ears are infected. Have you changed the bandage?”

“Oh yeah, there’s that. I haven’t.”

“Have you got your prescription?”

“I forgot, the paper’s still in my bloodied pants in my bathroom.”

“I’ll get it for you. How do you feel?”

“Numb. Tired.”

“Lay back down, I’m getting your first aid kit.” Aaron gets up from bed to his bathroom. He’s wearing boxers, allowing Chris to see those thighs in all their glory.

Aaron moves Chris to lay on his side, and Chris is so limp that he’s giving zero cooperation. It kinds of stings when Aaron opened the bandage, but Chris doesn’t bother to throw a fit to make Aaron kiss him better.

“How is it?” Chris asked instead.

“A bit red but it’s healing well. I’m going to disinfect it again.”

“Cool.”

It stings when the alcohol dabs on his raw wound. His mind goes back to the back of the ambulance, warm liquid down his neck, staining his favorite jacket. The flash of blue and red. The scent of rusty iron. Water on his hands, gentle touches that cleans the red away. Aaron’s perfume. The dread in Aaron’s face as he left.

Chris chuckles when he remembered that he asked Aaron if he’s still pretty. And Aaron said the sweetest thing ever said to him. What was it?

“‘No chunk of flesh can make you any less beautiful in my eyes’,” Chris quotes out loud, the hand on his ear stopped a bit. “That’s very cute.”

“And I meant it,” Aaron says, done with patching up Chris’s ear and leans down to kiss the side of his temple. Aaron looks at the clock on the table. “You’ve only slept a couple of hours. You want to go back to bed or do you want lunch?”

“Can I know what happened to Simon and Josh?” Chris says as soon as he lays down. He’s holding onto Aaron’s hand, insistent to know.

Aaron sighs lowly, “Simon died when they tried to arrest him, Josh died a few hours after being taken to an asylum. Threatened a guard and the guard made a poor judgement to shoot him.”

“Oh...” Chris whispered, and his eyes begin to sting. “Can I call Markus?” Chris’s voice cracks.

Aaron doesn’t say anything for too long. Chris roll to his back, instantly, he knows what that look means. A lump formed at the back of his throat, it seems to make itself home there. There’s pressure in his chest and he doesn’t know what it meant.

“How?” Chris asked, the tightness in his voice adamant.

“He took the handler officer's gun.”

“Did anyone else get hurt?”

Aaron shakes his head.

Chris sighs, tears stinging his eyes as he curled up next to Aaron. There’s a conflicting feeling in his chest, a whirlwind of emotions that turns him into a botched cocktail. There's truth at the tip of his tongue, held back by shame, but he reminds himself to trust Aaron, and that it’s a step to just... not bottle things up to explode.

“I hate that things become this way, but I... I find that there’s a little part of me that feels relieved,” Chris admits.

Aaron lowers himself to his elbows, engulfing Chris to his chest, and the world feels smaller, manageable. Like the only one that sees him is Aaron instead of the world.

“Do you know why you feel that way?” Aaron asks like he asked what he wanted for breakfast.

“Once upon a time I’ve felt trapped just like them,” Chris says, and he’s reminded of his teenage self to his early twenties. It wasn’t pretty, but he survived it, and he can only do that with help of his friends. Like Haily, her parents, and friends that have sadly drifted away. Chris remembers them now, it doesn’t hurt as much to remember the friends he let go, maybe it was for the best.

Chris continues, “I understand why they needed to... to end it the way it is. I would’ve done the same thing. The difference is, I have people around me that helped me, and I’m free. They... They’ve been alone for so long, doomed to live the rest of their lives as a belonging, there’s nothing to return to. We were kids, but even then we understood that no help will come, and there’s no way out even though we’re out of that house. Rage finally wakes them up to reach freedom, and I fucked that up... I stopped Markus, and I see the fear in his eyes when they took him away. I felt it... I understood it,” Chris sobs, lips between his teeth. “Yet I still tried to take their freedom.”

“You didn’t, you’re not the one taking their freedom away,” Aaron says right away, his tone firm. “You’re doing what you think is right, and what happened to them wasn’t your fault. If you feel strange that you didn’t feel as awful as you think you should when Markus died, then you shouldn’t. You have a reason why you feel this way, empathy, remember that.”

“Empathy to murderers.”

“Empathy to their suffering, not for the murder they commit.”

Chris lets go of his breath for what it felt like the first time since he woke up. His hands feel like they’re dipped in an anthill. Feels like they’re shaking, but they aren’t. Aaron says that he’s warm and Chris can finally feel it instead of the previous chill. The arms around him like one of that anxiety weighted blanket, without all the blanket but still less anxiety.

Would’ve there been another way? Chris understood the desperation of being cornered. Yet despite Markus’s departure that relieved him, still doesn’t stop the deep-rooted sorrow that sores his chest. They were his saviors, his friends, and they’re gone as soon as he found them again. The only difference is that it’s easier to let them go. They’re free now, Chris thinks, it’s just sad that their freedom means their absence in Chris’s life.

Chris sniffs, “Thank you, I’ll remember that.”

Aaron passes a soft smile and presses a kiss on top of Chris’s head. “I think I saw Spencer’s cup in your kitchen.”

A chuckle burst out of Chris when he remembered that cup. “Oh yeah, I stole it. Emily told me Spencer used it to drink coffee. I am just... so alarmed. So I took it...” Chris smile proudly, then remembered that he’s a goddamned detective of law enforcement. “I shouldn’t steal it, should I? I’m a law enforcement... and I just stole, heh,” Chris weakly chuckle.

Aaron laughed too, “Don’t worry, you’re not the first one to try. We all have one at home for trying. But Spencer bought the cup in bulk. He’s going to have a new one tomorrow.”

“Damn... how did he even survive with that much coffee? Not only on his brain.... he must have a gut of iron to drink that much and not having gut pains. I’m not even worried at this point, and just kind of amazed... and wickedly jealous, because he still looks so young.”

“We’ve all wondered that as well, and JJ envies him for it,” Aaron shrugged.

Chris looks up while Aaron is carding Chris’s hair and damn... it’s a good view. His heart skipped a beat when Aaron looks at him tenderly. Now Chris is blushing when he just felt a wave of sorrow. What a whirlwind of emotions. It’s not his fault Aaron is hot.

“Your face looks red, is the fever getting worse?” Aaron cups his face and smirks.

Chris pouts, “You know why my face is red! Why are you looking at me like that!”

“Like what?” Aaron persists to look at him like ‘that’. You know, like in one of those romance movies, or like how one would look at a cute fluffy animal. Just, completely smitten.

Chris sighs dreamily, “Just kiss me, man,” feeling if he didn’t he would burst.

Chuckling, Aaron leans in right away, but Chris jerks away last minute, and Aaron’s lips land on the pillow. “Wait! I haven’t brush my teeth!” Chris jumps away while Aaron’s face stays planted to the pillow.

Aaron follows him to the bathroom and they brush their teeth together. Chris can’t help but recognize how domestic this is. Aaron left his toothbrush at Chris’s months ago, and they share the same razor. Aaron smells like his lemon mint soap and hibiscus shampoo.

Chris can’t help but feel miserably lucky. He’s alive, he’s free and found the love of his life. Yes, a bold statement from someone that’s only dated the guy for two years but, Chris can’t help the skipping of his heart. He’s so lucky... Despite everything, he gets to fall so thoroughly in love. It still hurts to remember everything that had happened to him, but now he just feels so damn happy and so relieved that he doesn’t have to deal with everything alone.

Chris lags behind a bit, held back by sappy thoughts and Aaron had done brushing his teeth ahead of Chris as result. Aaron bumps his elbows against Chris.

“What are you looking at?” Aaron says cheekily.

“Ae wub u baebhi,” Chris says with the toothbrush still in his mouth.

Aaron smiles, leaning in, “I love you too.” Aaron kisses his cheek, “Now, do you want pancakes?”

“Nbo!” Chris rejects and quickly rinses his mouth, “I want a kiss!”

Chris presses his minty wet mouth to Aaron’s and they lay down in bed making out till their hunger finally won over. The day feels nice but there’s an air of gloom still hovers around Chris that he just can’t shake. A shadow of fear and grief is faint but never disappears.

Even so, it’s not so overwhelming now with Aaron and his pancakes.

+++++

Two months and a psychologist later, Chris fidgeting away in a court building, standing outside the trial room while staring at his phone.

Chris is not fine. Today is the first criminal trial upon many. Garcia really do pulling through. Chris had thought there’s no way a judge would take the case. Unproven child abuse cases often get to the bottom stack, but Garcia must’ve done something for this case to be basically hand-delivered to the judge’s face. Not only that, it’s an old case, and the offender is incapacitated while the offenders are all dead.

Turns out the Johnsons sons are taking up fostering as well, just like dear parents, and today’s witness arent just victims of Janet and Jack Johnsons, but the ones fostered by their sons. The only one alive out of the three is Monty. Incapacitated, Aaron had said, but Chris didn’t expect it so literally. The guy got amputated feet, hacked hands, his tongue cut in the middle like a snake. All done while he’s still alive. His two brothers were done the same as well, but more complete with gauged eyeballs and pierced eardrums. It was brutal, but Chris thought he’d held no compassion for them, but after looking at the pictures, he felt otherwise.

Chris told all this to his psychologist, had it not been Aaron’s recommendation, he wouldn’t be texting her right now. He’s currently texting her so he’ll have someone to talk to that isn’t related to the case, and Aaron is on a case. While waiting for her to reply, Chris would look up his chat history with Aaron, or look up Instagram.

He’s the first to arrive in the court building, not wanting to be stared at if he walks into a full building. Four hours early is tedious but worth it because it’s packing up in here. Haily walks into the building with a breeze, making an intimidating power walk.

“Nervous?” Haily asks once she’s in front of him. They’re all chillin’ in front of the courtroom. Chris’s vibrating fingers answer her questions. Chris would literally rather poke his hands into someone’s entrails and infiltrate a drug cartel rather than be here.

“How bout you?” Chris asks back.

“Honestly? I’m stoked. They got it coming to ‘em,” Haily says confidently. Though Chris sometimes envies her utmost confidence, he also had seen it bites her ass.

But this confidence isn’t unfounded. Garcia basically laid all of the Johnsons’ dirty laundry that the whole town stinks of it. It’s gone out to the media, which unanimously against them. Their previous foster kids speak up, and some agreed to testify, hence why the building is a bit filled. Some of them know each other. They hug and cry once they see each other. Chris and Haily are in the corner, watching all of this.

Another moment later, the lone Johnsons’ son walks in. This one is the worst of them all, Monty, and the last one alive. Everyone in the building is looking at him, either with rage or pity, because the man looks haunted, and his physical state looks like he had been mauled.

Seeing a photo and the person first-hand feels different, as Chris just knows now. He remembered that face, old as it is, he can see the young Monty coming up to their barn to grab a child to bring out to the night. Chris remembered praying to no one, hoping it wasn’t him.

Chris was up to his nose with his nerves, then he jumped when his phone rings. He looks down to the caller, Aaron.

“Oh, my sugar bear,” Chris whispered to the phone as he walks away from the crowd.

“That bad huh?” Aaron says sympathetically. “I thought it’s not supposed to start yet.”

“No, it hasn’t. Just that Monty just arrived, and the building is kind of full, and seeing him first hand is just....”

“How do you feel?”

“Like I want to be anywhere but here.” Chris finds a corner in the corridor next to the window and he curled up on himself, trying to breathe. “I hate them with a passion, sure. Can’t even say I feel bad for their state. I feel like all of this is tedious. Whether we win or not, it didn’t change anything. I have doubts whether or not this is justice.”

“Why would you? Don’t you think the Johnsons deserve to be held accountable?”

“I do! But all of them are dead and the last one looks pathetic. I... I just want to move on. Pretend he’s not living and breathing in the same plane as I am. Now I have no choice but face this and I’m just so... angry.” Chris sighs, he wants to rub his face but his hands are full of germs so no. He closes his eyes tightly instead, hand balled into a tight fist.

“Are you angry because you hate that Monty is still alive or that you’re forced to be there?”

“Both! I hate it here.”

“You can leave,” Aaron says so simply that it both infatuates him but tempting at the same time.

“I can’t!” Chris says, frustrated. “I just... I owe this them.”

“But is this still something you want to do?”

Chris thought he has the answers right away but he paused for a while, reconsidering everything. Currently, the Johnsons still have the pity of the people. Chris may think that this is useless, and might not be justice, but it is justice in the eyes of the law. The Johnsons trafficked tons of kids and those kids are never to be seen again. This isn’t just about Chris nor Markus anymore, this is about those trafficked kids. Who knew where they are now, they could be dead, they could face a much worse fate than Markus, North, Simon, and Josh. Someone needs to give them justice.

“Yes, I need to do this,” Chris says, surprising himself at the resolute tone.

“Why?”

“This... this isn’t about me anymore. I might not want to deal with this, but their victims are not only me. I’m doing this for them, this isn’t just about me, or Markus, or Haily anymore,” Chris said filled with determination.

“I see,” And Chris hears Aaron sighs, perhaps Aaron has been nervous in Chris's stead as well? “You’re not doing this alone, you have Haily, and after all of thsi is done, you have me. You can pull through this. I believe in you.”

Chris nods as if Aaron can hear him, “Thank you sweet sunshine, I feel a lot better now.”

“Good, glad to help.”

“Is it okay for you to take a break from your job?”

“We’re on the way home. I’m on the jet.”

“Wow, that’s quick.”

“Yes, I’ll pick you up after the trial is over.”

Chris perks up, but he tones down his excitement a bit and does the right thing. “Really? Though I love to have you here, you should get some rest.”

“I’ll rest better once I’m with you,” Aaron says lowly in a loving tone, and Chris is holding his heart. It began to race for a whole other reason. Geez, Aaron is picking up Chris’s pick-up lines and Chris is so swooned.

“Aaron Hotchner, a man after my own heart,” Chris sighs dreamily, leaning his head on the frame of the window and looking out to the blue sky like a female protagonist in a romantic drama movie. It’s not helping that there’s classical music playing in the background and makes him super into it.

Chris tried to find the source of the music, and Haily is a few steps away from him, holding out her phone that says ‘Romantic Classical Music - 30 Sweetest Classical Pieces.’ Chris holds a palm between his face and Haily to save his dignity.

“I’m gonna call you back boo,” Chris says to the phone.

“Alright, I’ll see you.”

“See you. Muah.”

Chris hangs up and slowly turns to Haily, who’s smirking like a sadist.

“Don’t say anything.”

“‘Boo’? No one says that anymore,” Haily teases.

“Hey! My boyfriend, my nickname, you didn’t catch me judging you when you called Jim your big beefcake daddy.”

“Psh whatever,” Haily retorts without shame that Chris envies. “They calling us, are you ready?”

Chris’s heart is having a field day today, skipping irregularly. He hates to do this, but he has to, it’s the right thing to do.

“Ready as I will ever be.”

++++

“Hey, Chris?” Amy approached carefully to Chris’s table, behind her is Jake and Rosa who looks just as uncomfortable.

Chris sighed, he already knows what they want. “Yes, the verdict came yesterday, and no, we didn’t win.”

All of them sighed dejectedly, except Rosa, who grabbed a nearby pencil and broke it in half.

“That’s someone else's pencil, Rosa,” Chris sighed.

“I don’t care, I’m angry,” Rosa says, her face looks just as stoic as ever, but he’ll trust her word for it.

Chris told them about the case, it isn't classified.

So, they didn’t win the trial. It sucks, and it makes him angry at first, but now that everything is said and done, Chris isn’t too sure about what to feel. Monty is incapacitated, literally, and on the trial, he doesn’t look right in the head. Just how long did they torture him? Or it could be an act. Then again, Monty wouldn’t have a life to live anyway. The man is old, he’s in his sixties, twenties when he was the bane of child Chris’s existence. Now his fostering license is pulled, and his reputation smeared.

But is that fair? Is that justice?

“God is dead,” Gina announced, chewing her gum and her feet up on the desk. “We’ll go for ice cream today.” She points to Chris.

“Gina you don’t have to-”

“I got a fifty dollar gift card for Baskin robins.”

“I’ll see you after hour.”

Chris and his colleague chats and they express how sorry they are. All that good shit. Haily’s testimony is classified though, so when she arrived, Chris has to pretend to tell her all about it. Haily nudges his foot as an apology, but Chris bumps her shoulder to tell her that it’s okay.


	6. wake me up.... before you go go

“Hey, look. It’s Chris’s tall dark goth bf the mister FBI Agent,” Gina says to the whole fucking room just as Aaron steps out of the lift.

“Nice to see you too Gina,” Aaron says and waves to Chris.

Chris already got his table tidied and bolted right to his boyfriend, “Good night everyone!”

“I’m goth?” Aaron asks, looking down at his black coat covered black suit with black oxford shoes while holding a black go-bag.

“No, you’re not sweetie.” Chris rubs his arm. “Gina is just style blind.”

“Hey, I heard that!” Gina exclaims.

“My boyfriend is tall dark handsome _formal prep_!” Chris says as he links his arms with Aaron and gets him into the elevator.

“ _Goth_ Formal Prep!” Gina shouts as the elevator door closes.

It’s been the second time in a month that Aaron comes to pick him up. Chris is happy and all, but Aaron is always tired after he does and Chris is worried.

They walk down the street hand in hand, something in DC that no one would bat an eye on but the people in Virginia would, or so Chris had learned. That doesn’t faze Chris nor stop him from doing it, but it was on his mind before. He’d have a little more confidence if he grabs Aaron’s hand in DC. While in Virginia, when Chris would hesitate a little, Aaron would grab him instead. It’s cute, Aaron is being cute, but Chris is still worried.

They’re in the middle of buying groceries when Chris notices one sign too many of his boyfriend's exhaustion. Aaron is holding a dick shaped pasta in the middle of the aisle and a grandma is looking at him funny. Chris wants to tease him, but he looks so tired Chris kinda doesn’t have the heart for it.

Sike.

“Baby.” Chris slides his arm on Aaron’s waist, “That’ll taste good with some thick creamy alfredo sauce.”

Aaron blinks at Chris, then down to what he’s holding and chuckle. He rubs his eyes and sighs, “Does it show?”

“There’s a neon sign above your head that says ‘I’m tired’. What’s clouding up your pretty big brain head, pumpkin?” Chris lay his head on his shoulder, Circling his arms around Aaron’s waist.

Aaron’s eyes look downcast to the grubby floor of Trader Joe’s. “I’ll tell you once we get home.”

“Alright,” Chris gives him a cheek kiss and grab the penis pasta from Aaron’s hand, and put it in the basket.

At Chris’s apartment, they cook pasta with marinara sauce (Alfredo is too heavy for dinner) with a sprinkle of the dick pasta and grilled chicken with a side of salad. Then some cut fruits for dessert.

“Dude, spill,” Chris shove his foot under the table at Aaron’s. “You’re about to face plant into the pasta.”

Aaron sighs tiredly, “I just want to spend more time with you.”

“As much as I’m loving that, you’re clearly tired from the commute. You coulda rest first at your home and comes the next day. Or me coming there.” Though Chris can only do weekends and Friday nights. Chris’s job has more regular hours than Aaron’s more unpredictable ones.

“I really do want to see you more.”

Chris presses his lips, time to put on some big boy pants. He grabs Aaron’s hands, “Honey, I know I’m a snack, but I sniff this isn’t me being pretty and more about you pushing yourself to be here, so what’s going on?” Ouch, that feels harsher for Chris than he thought.

Chris likes that Aaron is here more. Still, something is afoot, and Chris has only been noticing it more lately.

Aaron takes a deep breath, looking down at their hands. “I thought I was going to lose you.”

Oh, the pasta in his belly is doing a pasta tornado. Chris holds his boyfriend’s hand tighter as Aaron adds, “When I hear gunshots I already believed at the worst. When I saw you, alive, I felt that it was a warning.”

It’s not weird for Aaron to have a somber tone in his voice. His tall dark stiff boyfriend tends to have that tone even when he’s chill at times, but Chris has learned the difference between’s Aaron’s husky voice and a ‘woe is me’ voice.

Gunshots... so back when he was in all that mess with Markus and North. Chris knows Aaron is riled up by it too, it was a mess of a day. Aaron had said he doesn’t want to lose Chris, and it was heartbreaking to hear.

“How long have you been sitting on this?”

Aaron sighs, “Since I left you by the pier.”

Holy shit, right at the incident, that’s half a year ago, maybe more. Chris isn’t angry, just kind of bummed that Aaron didn’t tell him. “Why are you only telling me now?”

“You’ve had your own problems.” Aaron grips his hands tighter as if knowing Chris about to go off for that reason. “You do,” Aaron insists, “But you’re doing well, so I’m telling you now. I also feel that this isn’t anything too urgent.”

Yeah, mental health and all, still, his Aaron... Chris reels back and tries to think of the past months that’s a blur of his job, and the psychologist sessions. All three jabbing him with stimulations of tenseness, sadness, and he’s been all so exhausted by all of it.

Going to the psychologist is the least exciting thing on his to-do list but Aaron was adamant about it. Only because the psychologist was Aaron’s recommendation that Chris goes. Chris doesn’t know the point yet, it seems to be the same old same old from the psychologists he tried a decade ago. He feels that just because he felt a bit better, doesn’t mean it’s doing anything for him. Chris can achieve the same feeling with an aloe mask. But the psychologist isn’t discouraging him, yet, so it’s been nice actually.

Having Aaron here helps, a lot. Like an island to his storm.

It clicks now that Aaron is pushing himself to visit Chris more partially for Chris and the other half is Aaron’s trauma of losing his loved ones. Aaron is still riled up because he thought Chris was shot dead, and that’ doing hurty stuff to Chris’s chest.

“I love it when you’re here,” Chris confessed. “But I also understand when you can’t. I’m just sadder now that you’re exhausted to the point of losing concentration. Your health matters for me equal to my own, okay?”

Aaron taps his thumb at the back of Chris’s hand. He sees Aaron gulps and it’s not always a good sign whenever his calm composed boyfriend gulps before speaking. Aaron doesn’t look tired anymore, but his eyes down-casted and it’s as much pretty as it is sad. Chris has told Aaron lots of times that he understands the time Aaron takes away from meeting each other. Chris doesn’t mind, well maybe a little bit. Only a little bit. Work is still work, and Aaron’s work isn’t just work, it’s his passion. Who is Chris to get in between someone’s passion?

“I’m thinking of retiring.”

It takes a while for Chris to snap out of his muse and register that the words weren’t made up in his mind. Aaron really just said that. Chris’s eyebrows climb slowly, blinking also slowly like the sloths in Zootopia. Chris takes a slow deep breath.

“Who are you? And what have you done to my boyfriend??”

The tension burst with Aaron and the stoic face breaking into a chuckle. Not Chris though, he meant it. The one in front of him is totally some kind of clone.

“I’m serious!” Chris whines, unseriously.

“And I am too,” Aaron sighs after a good fit of laugh. The way he smiles makes Chris believe the clone is his actual boyfriend, but that can’t be, he just said he wants to retire!

“I thought you don’t want to let their death be in vain,” Chris says rather bluntly and quickly regrets it.

He’s better than poke a sore spot, it’s just that he doesn’t know how else to voice it. He felt like the only thing that holds Aaron together after the fucking dark death of his family is this job. Chris doesn’t want to pick ar the glue that holds Aaron together, that’s like coming between Chris and his weekly home spa, and god knows wrath dawns upon them who comes between him and his rejuvenating clay masks.

“Their death won't be in vain,” Aaron ensures, thumbs rubbing the back of Chris’s hands. Smiling sweetly, Aaron adds, “I’m offered to become an instructor instead, training newcomers, and a special consult if my team still needs me. There’s even a position open for me if I want to teach in a university.”

“Wait, you’ve talked about this with other people?”

“I told my team I’m thinking about it. I also told my boss. She told me to rethink the retirement, saying I still have a good decade, but then she offers the teaching job if I ‘ever’ to go through with retirement.”

Chris’s jaw drops, “Whuh-When are you retiring?”

“The policy is that I have to put a year's notice.”

“Holy shit that’s long.”

“Yes, but the director tells me I probably need to wait two years, depends on whenever they found my substitute.” Aaron sighs, “Is that okay?”

The question throws Chris for a loop, “The timing isn’t the problem here it’s...” Not even the timing, Chirs can’t even wrap his head that Aaron, his Aaron, is retiring. “You’re... but you said you’re still thinking about it. So you might not retire after all?”

Aaron looks back at him imploringly, one of those stares that makes Chris flush, “You don’t want me to retire?”

“It’s not that! It’s...” Chris nips his lips a bit, his hands unclench but Aaron isn’t letting him go.

It’s a dilemma. Whenever Aaron is here, his space feels less empty, more lived-in, feels like a home. It’s all that Chris ever wanted, but at the cost of Aaron’s happiness? Chris isn’t sure.

“Are you doing this for me?” Chris asks softly.

Aaron doesn’t take a second to hesitate, “Yes, but this is for me too.”

Chris felt his heart pounds. His chest sore and he doesn’t know what it meant. His eyes sting, and he blurts again, “You’re giving up your passion, your calling... I don’t think...” Chris stops before he says things he regrets.

Aaron taps his thumb again, and Chris looks up to a pair of eyes that holds him firmly.

“Losing my family was the reason why I stayed in my job. Almost losing you changed that. One of my regrets was that I was so busy with my job that I didn’t spend a lot of time with my ex-wife, nor with my son.” Aaron is softly smiling and his eyes glassy. “I know thinking of losing me to a case is taking a toll on you and I don’t want to hurt you like that, making you think you’re going to lose me any day, because I know how that felt.”

Chris feels bad for a second and not a second more. He tried to hide his dread of losing Aaron, he truly did, but there’s only so much you can hide from a profiler. Chris still feels a bit bad that this still means Aaron is quitting because of him, then again, he reminds himself that Aaron is a grown man making his own decisions.

Then Aaron looks at him like ‘that’. Like Chris is a source of happiness. The drumming in his heart pacing up when those dark eyes show their green tint and smile. Corners of Aaron’s lips quirk up as they rarely do. Aaron is beautiful when he’s happy. Most of all, Aaron is beautiful, and Chris feels like everything ends and begins with this man.

Aaron continues, “I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Nothing could ever be more important to me than living peacefully with you. I’m not going to let my job get in between our lives now that I have a second chance of having a family.”

Chris feels his cheeks tingling, his heart pounding, and he knows it’s a good feeling now. Suddenly the table between them is too big, intruding.

“If I didn’t know better I would’ve thought that’s a proposal,” Chris joked, airing out the tenseness and basking in the fluffy feeling under his skin.

“It could be if you want to.”

_Screeeeech_. Floor the breaks. What?

Oh here comes the wild and ambiguously threatening heart skipping. The fast drumming heart feels kinda like either after a hard-workout pump or just pure panicking.

“Aaron...” Chris breathed. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

Aaron scoffs amusingly as if it’s obvious. “Is it that surprising?” Aaron looks up from their hands and blush to add more damage to Chris’s wildly beating heart.

“I...” Well no. They’ve had this talk before. They’re defo getting hitched, but Chris thought it’s a feeling that’ll come later... like another few years. They haven't even lived together yet. Like the legit living together, not just sleeping over for a day or two. “Are you sure?”

“I am, but we’re in no rush. Let’s take our ti-”

“That’s not what I’m asking,” Chris cuts quickly, a bit breathlessly. He still feels like what he heard is a fever dream. “How... how can you be sure that I’m... that I’m the it girl?” because asking Aaron ‘how can you be sure I’m the one?’ is too sappy for the current tension that Chris thinks he wouldn’t survive it.

“I just know, this just feels right,” Aaron says simply, but Chris feels like he’s about to burst anyway.

Chris may be a serial monogamist, but in terms of real serious relationship, he’s pretty much a rookie at that. The last time he’s about to settle down it went down in flames. That was with his four-year girlfriend, and he just dated Aaron for a little over two years. Oh, but how Chris wants it. Being Aaron’s husband, being family. He already feels like that, but something about tying things with Aaron that just makes him feel giddy.

Chris looks down at their hands, but he feels his whole apartment. Aaron’s clothes in the closet, his shaving cream by the sink. His favorite cup by the drying tray. Chris’s clothes on him. These few days that Aaron keeps coming home to Chris. He wants it all. He wants to stay like that forever.

“Yes,” Chris says solidly.

Aaron’s eyelids flicker, lips parted as he takes a soft breath in. “You don’t have to answer right away-”

“I’ve said yes when you asked me if I want to marry you someday.” Chris remembers the scene. They were in Sean’s pub, dancing to alternative music, and Aaron just survived an explosion. “I said yes not caring when that someday is. I’ve known for... ah, geez.” Chris’s eyes are blurry and he pats his eyes from the tears. “The answer wouldn’t change if you’ve asked six months earlier or another few years ahead.”

Aaron’s eyes become glassy too, and those deep olive eyes just became more beautiful as if it was possible. “Will you marry me?”

Chris sighs shakily, “Yes, I totally will, Aaron Hotchner.”

The table between them disappears in a quick shimmy to the side. Chris doesn’t remember who moves first but he’s pulled in a tight hug and Chris clung just as tight. Aaron leans back enough just to kiss him on the lips. It’s deep, and the hands on his body are roaming, wanting.

“Mmm, savory,” Chris says after they broke the kiss.

“Can I kiss you anywhere else then?” Aaron smirks, and shivers run down Chris’s spine. Last time he says that they were also in the kitchen. Chris’s cheeks light up crimson.

“My mouth can still be included,” Chris plays with the collar of Aaron’s shirt. “We haven’t had dessert yet.”

“I’m having one now.”

Chris feels a bit dejected before he realizes Aaron didn’t let him go to open the fridge where the cut fruits are. Aaron leads him to the bedroom instead.

++++++

Technically the proposal did happen, there’s a question, they just agreed to marry each other, but no traditional mumbo jumbo with the ring and the going down on one knee, so Chris is doing it.

Chris wants to keep his shame for as long as he can, but he can’t anymore. So he admits to Haily that he’s been window shopping engagement rings ever since Aaron asked if they wanna marry ‘someday’. Yes, that same moment more than a year ago that they were dancing in Sean’s pub.

It was just so sappy, but window shopping rings have been his regular monthly thing to do and he’s just embracing it now that he actually needs to buy the ring.

He can’t do this on his own. Don’t get it twisted, Chris has impeccable style, but everyone needs help. Hence the reinforcement, Haily, Jake, and Amy. Now Chris knows having Jake ring shopping is the most useless thing ever, but Chris is a couple of alternate realities ahead of them. Haily is here for style, Amy is here for the best deals, Jake is here as the eyes of a practical man. A ring can be bulky or too much and Jake is here to point it out.

The ring shopping went with loud arguing of Haily saying it’s pretty, Amy saying the price ain't worth it, and Jake eating donuts in the background saying everything there is too blingy. It’s nothing violent, they’re cops and an adult. It’s like that show ‘Say Yes To The Dress’, but with rings. Oh god, the tux buying would be a nightmare to go through. Because hell will freeze first until Chris walks down with a regular tux. No, there’ll be a magnificent flair to it, and he’ll need help.

But that’s for later.

Chris cruise down the displays of the fifth store they walked into that day while his entourage is still talking about the last possible ring. As he cruises, he caught sight of a [ring](https://www.etsy.com/hk-en/listing/565981827/men-tungsten-wedding-bands-square?variation0=710372828) and gasps.

Gunmetal tungsten band, a silver lining in the middle, and a square-cut diamond at the center. To top it all off, rose gold in the inner side of the ring. For some reason that last detail is what did it for Chris.

“That one,” Chris says to the other clerk.

Chris holds it in his hand, and it’s the perfect bulky weight he was looking for. It’s so fitting of Aaron, and it’ll look so good with his working black suit. Not too boringly masculine and not too flashily feminine, yet still so precious and pretty.

“Guys, this one,” Chris says to his entourage that quickly drops their current argument.

Haily gasps.

“I’d wear that one. It’s girthy and gunmetal and shows the manly man that I am!” Jake says deeply, then switches to a goofy smile, “But I know how to have fun and comfortable with my masculinity to wear diamonds.”

Chris looks at Haily. “It’s real pretty, as much as I hate it, Jake the novice fashionista here is got a point, minus some points about gunmetal being manly. Simple and sleek but not boring, the diamond is a nice touch, I would go bigger, but I guess it’s a good size for a fashionable subtlety and it’s practical for work. Amy?”

Amy gets herself high-strung and walks to the clerk. Chris didn’t hear what they talked about. No matter the price, this is the it ring for the it girl.

Chris hasn’t ever gone down on one knee. The engagement with his last fiance was like a unanimous decision. Now that he thinks about it, the conversation was eerily similar to the one he has with Aaron. They were doing some usual stuff, talking about something emotional and it clicks. It was Chris that asked Rachel to marry him and she said yes in her PJs. It was a happy time then. It’s a happy time now too.

But Aaron’s different than Rachel. Different in the way Chris loves each of them. Rachel is his best friend turned roommates. Things were easy with her and thinking about the rest of his life with her was worry-free and casual.

Aaron and him are fast-paced if he compares it to the rest of his relationships. Almost none lasts this long or reach this serious stage this quick compared to his other few serious relationships, and when it does, Rachel reaches it in four years, Aaron reaches it in one, because they agree to marry way long back even though the dance in Sean’s pub wasn’t a proposal.

Their relationship was the easiest and at the same time the hardest one he ever has. The long hour commute, the long calls, can’t always meet face to face with each other. Yet none of it ever overshadow the happy moments they have. Chris was haunted by the chance that he’ll lose Aaron to a case, but he embraced an addition to his pain of loss for more moments with Aaron.

Now here they are. Aaron is retiring to spend more time with Chris, for this lil ol dude, and they’re getting married.

“Dude, you’re okay?” Jake elbows him.

Chris sniffs, wiping his eyes from the pooling tears. “Yeah, just real happy.”

“Awwww.” Coos the other two girls.

“I still think this ring is 578 dollars and 89 cents overpriced, but if it’s the one,” Amy nods with a watery smile, “It’s worth it.”

Chris ring it off the counter and walk home with hops on his feet. Amy and Jake separate from Haily and Chris.

Haily links her hand with Chris as they walk towards Haily’s home first.

“You know, I got my doubts,” Haily says. “But yall pretty solid, he’s your it girl.”

“He is,” Chris sighs dreamily. The nights a bit chilly and it’s getting darker. He wonders where Aaron is. Whether he’s on the way home or on an emergency call for another case. He hopes that he’s well, wherever he is.

“Have yall talked about dates?” Haily asks.

“No, I just said yes last week! And I haven't even done the official down on my knee part.”

“Oh, I bet you’ve done lotsa practice of going down on your knees.”

“Knee! Not _knees_. The latter, yes I’m an expert. The former, I’m a virgin on that one.”

Haily barked a laugh. “You nervous?”

Chris is, in fact, nervous. “Why do I feel like this? I already know he’s gonna say yes, why am I having jelly fingers.”

“Maybe you’re just excited.”

Well, _that_ Chris is. Why wouldn’t he be? When Aaron is the only person that has ever made Chris feel this so much loved, and he’s gonna put a ring on him.

+++++++

No one knows yet. At least, at Aaron’s end, no one knows yet. Aaron wants the first one to know to be Sean.

Sean’s reaction to Chris hasn’t been the best, but they’re oddly getting along now. Chris often to his bar near his precinct. Though Chris confesses Sean was a tough nut to crack. Aaron wholeheartedly agrees, mainly because Aaron was the reason for his personality. Sean was forced to be mature at an early age when their parents died. While his only parental figure then, Aaron, was busy with work and school, Sean was alone a lot.

Some kids left alone becomes highly social and pursue companion desperately, like Chris. Some become a loner, being more comfortable keeping to themselves, like Sean.

Even for Aaron, Sean is still a tough nut to crack and he gave up trying a long time ago. Aaron doesn’t have to know anything about his little brother that he doesn’t want to give, he deserves that, but Aaron will tell him everything. Because he’s still his little brother, the only other family he has other than Chris and his team.

“You’ve been staring at my blue smoothie for five minutes now, are you sure you don’t want it? I swear it’s healthy, it’s blue because it’s spirulina. Good for blood pressure.”

Chris hands him his cup of juice. It’s Reid’s cup that he still uses whenever he makes juices. Aaron smiles at the cup Chris repeatedly told him he’s proud to snatch. He takes the juice with the other hand that’s not holding Chris’s.

Aaron finally sees the road instead of looking at Chris’s hand, trying to figure out his ring size. Maybe he should just ask. They’re already technically engaged, Chris had said yes, though the proposal isn’t the most traditional.

Aaron doesn’t really mind, things like rings and going down on one knee isn’t important for him, they don’t compare to Chris saying yes. But he thinks Chris would love that. He loves flaunting Aaron around and express his love vocally. After this, Aaron would ask. The calm silence of their walk is too precious to break.

They’re at Chris’s favorite park, Meridian Hill Park. They’re on their usual route, starting from the statue of serenity, or as Chris calls her, grandma serenity.

With any other adult, Aaron would’ve quirk an eyebrow at a grown adult calling a statue their grandma. But Aaron loves Chris to bits and the way his face genuinely lits up at her, makes Aaron melts just a tad bit.

This time is different though. Both of Aaron’s hands are cold and damp. The one holding the cup of juice and the one holding Chris’s hands. Somethings afoot and Aaron felt it from a few meters ahead when Chris didn’t do the usual deep breath in once they step into the park. The air is crisp from the upcoming winter, Chris’s favorite ‘type of air’ as he said it. They’re bundled up with coats and wooly scarfs, and at this time of year, Chris usually opted for warm tea to bring around. This smoothie is cold.

For blood pressure huh? And they’re coming up to grandma Serenity.

They’re getting off trails from the pathways. Chris usually just walks away with a little wave to his grandma. Aaron knows something is going on, but he lets Chris pulls him to the grass to the front of the statue. Chris is looking up to her, and Aaron waits, sipping a blue smoothie.

“I never called her my grandma until Matty died,” Chris confesses out of the blue.

Aaron can’t truly predict with Chris, it’s one of the things that Aaron loves about him. Even with his skill to profile, he can’t completely predict what Chris about to do or what’s going on in his head some of the time. Including this, because Chris doesn’t look sullen at all mentioning his foster dad’s traumatic death.

“Back then I was expectedly lonely, you know? I felt like Matty’s loss was one too many and I kinda lost my marbles. Matty loves her. He calls her his hot momma.” Aaron pressed back a smile, but Chris notice it anyway and chuckles. “I know that doesn’t mean she’s his mom or anything, and I was rolling my eyes at him. After he’s gone I found solace with her. Like she’s part of my family at how Matty seems to love her. I climbed up and slept by her lap one time. Got kicked out because of it,” Chris chuckles, Aaron doesn’t.

Chris showed him a picture of him when he was a teenager with Matty. Chris was small, skinny, and frowning like it’s engraved on his face eternally, so much different from the tall, filled, and cheerful Chris today. Aaron looks up at the statue, imagining small scrawny Chris balled in stony lap, crying after one loss too many. Aaron pulls him closer.

“Haily’s family is like an extended of mine. I want to tell them about our engagement, but I’ve never actually gone back to Matty’s house anymore. The last time I did, didn’t work out great. But I wanna tell them in person, and that'll be a great exposure therapy, will you go with me?”

“Yes,” Aaron says immediately, a little bit silly that Chris still has to ask. Wait hold on. “Does Dr. Kapoor says you can do that?”

“Yeah, she says to come back there and see if my reaction is still the same from a decade ago. She says not to come there alone, so I’m asking you.”

“I’ll come.” Aaron wraps Chris in one arm and leans his head to the side against Chris’s. “I’m proud of you for doing this. I know it’s hard for you.”

Chris has told him about a house he inherited from Matty, the house he grows up in with his foster dad. The house is away from the city, about an hour away, and Haily’s parents lived next door. Her parents take Chris in after Matty died so he wouldn’t mourn alone. Once he finished police academy, he left, and coming back to Haily’s parents' home had never been the same.

Chris still calls, and Aaron had seen them. Good folks, and it’s clear that they love Chris an abundance.

“I wanna check Matty’s place too. It’s been a while since I was there.”

“I look forward to seeing where you grow up.”

Chris chuckles and wraps Aaron in a tight hug. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you too.”

Chris breaks away, cups his face, and kisses him deeply. Aaron quirks up a smile in their pressed lips and clings to Chris’s sides. Sometimes Chris likes to dips him while they kiss, this time Aaron is prepared for it.

Except that Chris doesn’t dip him. When Chris broke away from the kiss, he is not in front of Aaron anymore, he’s down on one knee, holding a ring box.

Aaron’s breath hitched. It’s not that he doesn’t expect it. There’s a little tiny whisper that says ‘Chris would do that’, but Aaron just shrug it off as they’ve already technically engaged. He should’ve known his sweet Chris would do it anyway. Chris on the green grass starts to blur and Aaron has to take a deep breath and blink away the tears to see clearly that Chris is tearing up too.

“Do you believe that I was window shopping for rings right after you asked me if we want to get married ‘someday’?”

That was way back last year when they were at Sean’s pub after Aaron’s accident. Aaron felt a little drumming in his chest. He believes Chris would do that, but he can’t believe that Chris actually did.

“Did you?” Aaron says, his voice has gone low and raspy. Chris chuckles and nods.

“Turns out my ‘someday’ is whenever. Since that day you asked, I can’t think of another alternate reality without you.”

Chris looks up to Aaron with tears in his eyes and Aaron feels like he’s looking down to two ponds of deep blues. Filled to the brim with love, that’s how Chris always sees him, and Aaron always melts in return.

“Aaron Samuel Hotchner, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for a lifetime of you. You’ve got my yes, and now I want to know yours.” Chris opens the velvet box. Inside is a black tungsten ring with silver lining in the middle, rose gold embellished the inside of the ring, and a square diamond in the middle. “My dearest, will you marry me?”

His heart swells to bloom, eyes prickling with tears. Aaron chuckles wetly, and nods, “Yes.”

Chris takes his hand, and slip the ring to its designated fingers. His hand is handled so gently that Aaron feels himself crumbling a little bit. What a thing to be loved, another to be treated gently.

Aaron had not felt the gentleness that Chris treats him with other than from Chris himself. His life has been different textures of roughness. His father was coarse, his brother Sean is jagged. His mother was sweet until she is gritty with mourn of her husband, Haley was cheerful until she’s prickly with Aaron’s neglect. Life without their parents was bumpy. His job is ever demanding, like an abrasive scrub that doesn’t discriminate between his thick skin and parts that still raw.

With Chris, it’s like a touch of velvet every time. Chris teases on his thicker skin, but caring, loving and so soft to his tender ones. All of Chris, has always treated Aaron in different textures of softness.

Chris stands up abruptly holding his hands tighter, “I hope those are happy tears and you’re not changing your mind.”

Aaron smiles softly and pulls Chris in a tight hug, “Thank you.”

Chris chuckles, “What are you thanking me for, silly?” Chris wraps his waist tightly, rubbing his back gently. “The ring is nothing, Our two years anniversary dinner was more expensive than the-”

“I love the ring, but that’s not it.” Aaron leaves a kiss on Chris’s cheek before pulling himself back from the embrace, framing Chris’s face. “Thank you for being here, for being you, for taking the first step for our first date. For being in my life. I wouldn’t know how I’d be without you in it.”

Chris choked up and the tears are falling this time. Aaron catches the drops dutifully, knowing Chris hates anything that ruins his sunscreen.

“You ain't so bad yourself, smooth-talker,” Chris croaks, chuckling, clutching to the sides of Aaron’s jacket.

“I’m flattered,” Aaron says before leaning in, kissing his fiance on the lips.

Chris wraps his waist, and one hand on Aaron’s back and he braced. Chris dips him just like he expected. Aaron chuckles that break their kiss. Chris dipping him always makes him feel a bit silly and fun, but most of all, Aaron’s just impressed Chris can hold his weight. Aaron’s busy lips from chuckling aren’t stopping Chris from kissing him, now it’s on his cheeks and jaws while Aaron is still comfortably hanging low in Chris’s arms.

“Okay Cassanova, pull me up,” Aaron pats Chris’s shoulder.

He’s pulled up but they stayed attached chest to chest. This close Aaron sees Chris’s eyes and faces in full glory. Whatever Chris uses it’s working, there are fine lines but he’s youthful for his age, and those eyes as clear as an untouched pond in the breaking of dawn. Chris is absolutely beautiful, even more now that he’s looking at Aaron endearingly.

Melting to the core, Aaron basks in the feeling and leans his head to Chris’s as he looks down to his ring. This is the first time he’s being proposed to, like being chosen than choosing. Chris chooses him despite everything he had put Chris through. The long weeks without face to face, the distance, the radio silence. Chris chooses him still, the temperature is up another few degrees and Aaron is melting in Chris’s arms.

A sniff breaks their tranquility, but not too abruptly since Aaron expects that too. Chris however, was somewhat jolted by it. Looking away from the ring and raising his head towards the muffled sounds, Aaron finds Haily with her phone out, camera facing their way. Standing beside her is her husband, Jim, snickering at his wife's bawling face.

“Aw babe, I feel ya,” Jim engulfs her shoulder with his bulky arm.

“If you feel me then why are you laughing at me!” Haily sniffs, digging her nail to Jim’s side that has been accustomed to it and doesn’t flinch a bit.

“I’ve never seen you cry this hard unless you’re watching a movie scene where the dog died,” Jim full-blown laughed this time.

“I am offended!” Chris exclaimed, “Change your cry technique.”

“Bitch, fuck you, I retract my tears completely.” Haily pats her tears away. “These tears are precious minerals only for best friends and dogs.”

“What are you doing here anyway! I thought we’re meeting by at Joan’s.” Chris meant the statute of Joan the arc.

“Yeah yeah, be grateful I got your proposal on camera.”

“Holy shit, you’re the best!” Chris walks over to them by the pathways, pulling Aaron’s hand.

As Haily and Chris watch the video and looking like they’re about to set off in another round of tears, Aaron lets them be and nods to Jim. They’ve been on double dates for a few times now, and he still isn’t quite used to cricking up his neck to look at Jim’s face. Jim is a tall black man with a soft plushy heart and voice as smooth as a jazz singer, because he is one.

“Hey man, congrats. You two click, treat him right, okay?” Jim says, elbowing Aaron a bit.

“I will,” and Aaron is determined to do so, whatever it takes.

“Cool, now let me see that rock,” Jim opens his hand, and Aaron gives him the hand unoccupied by Chris. Jim whistles, “That’s a clear ice, I would go bigger though.”

“I know right!” Haily pops in, tears in her eyes just freshly watched the video.

“I think this is ideal,” Aaron says, looking at his ring, and the fond feeling returns. “It’s non-disruptive so I can wear it comfortably to work. I love it. You think everything through,” Aaron says to Chris, whose eyes are damp.

“I did,” Chris sniffs, patting his eyes from the moist. “I also think that the ring is totally you.”

Aaron looks down to the dark metal, a silver lining in the middle, and a sparkly diamond in the middle, but on the inner side, pretty rose gold. Aaron recalled the times when he’s called pretty, all from Chris, the compliment surprisingly made Aaron blushed. ‘Pretty’ was never a word to describe Aaron but Chris seems to adamantly think so. He’d like to think the brightest part of his ring akin to Chris’s presence. Then yes, this ring is totally Aaron as a whole.

++++++

Telling Sean isn’t as nerve-wracking as he had predicted. It’s happy news, and Aaron has been the happiest he had felt in a long time.

Aaron chooses the less busy hour of the day to come visit Sean’s pub. Sean is talking to his employee that’s batting her eyelashes at her. At this point, Sean is used to it and feigning ignorance. Aaron knows better, Sean is exasperated. Seeing Aaron lits him up, it’s one of the things Aaron is grateful for, that they’re rebuilding their bridge.

Sean shoos her away for privacy and he exhales once she leaves him alone.

“Man, you couldn’t come at any better time,” Sean doesn’t watch her go, looking so sick already.

“She must be a good employee if you’re keeping her around, despite.” Aaron can’t help his amused smile. His once bitter and cut-throat brother is putting up with the one behavior that he used to hate the most. It took time and a rocky journey, but Sean has grown into a fine man all by himself. Aaron felt a little bit of melancholy about that, he was lacking when Sean needed him the most. It felt like Sean has grown without him.

Still, he’s glad, his brother seems to find his roots.

“Yeah, never missed a shift and nothing breaks in her hands, yet. It’s a miracle,” Sean says in a flat tone. “By the way, are you here to order or holy shit,” Sean abruptly diverts as he looks down at the menu casually under Aaron’s hand with the ring.

“Is that what I think it is?” Sean cross-checked, eyes still bulging at the sight of his ring.

“Yes, we’re engaged.”

“Wow. Only after two years?” Sean asks bluntly like he always does. Aaron adds it to a plus when he can’t sense any hint of sardonic tone.

“Technically, it’s two years and a half.”

“Are you sure?” Sean asks, his worry is endearing. Aaron came here thinking he’d have a way harder conversation than this.

“I am. I’ve been the happiest in a long time.”

“Well, that’s good,” Sean sighed rather relieved. He hums, thinking, Aaron guessed that he’s trying to find the right words instead of asking bluntly. “When are you guys tying the knot?”

“We haven’t talked about that yet. I was thinking maybe giving it at least two years when...” It hits Aaron that he hadn’t talked to Sean about him retiring. “I’m going to retire.”

Sean’s jaw hits the deck, eyebrows shooting to the hairline, he had never seen his brother this shocked. Won’t blame him though, Sean was there from the decades that Aaron’s pride and sense of justice superglued him to his job.

“Are you doing this for Chris?”

“Partially. The other half was for... well, our lives together.”

“You didn’t retire for Haley and Jack.” To his credit, Sean doesn’t have the usual prick of poison that’s usually latched in his tone at conversations like this. He’s being honest, genuinely curious, but his true jagged edges brushed against his tender parts.

Aaron wants to laugh at himself. He wasn’t lying when he said to Chris that ‘He’ll never stop hurting’, but Chris evidently bounced back better than Aaron ever did. Perhaps those words only applied to Aaron. This part of him will never stop hurting.

“Ah shit, I’m sorry, I take back my-”

“No, it’s okay,” Aaron assures Sean’s blanching face. “The way I lost Haley and Jack was a grave mistake at my end. This job... I know I’m doing something good, I know I belong here, this is what I’m good for, but it never should’ve come at a cost of my family.” Aaron looks deeply to his brother, “Sometimes I thought I’ve lost you to it too.”

Sean stiffens for a few seconds before taking a deep breath and with a ruffle on his hair. “Why is he different?” Sean says, sighing exasperatedly.

Change all he wants, but Sean is still awkward whenever having a heart to heart. The only thing that’s holding Aaron back from laughing at his brother is his own pain pulsing on the thinnest part of his heart.

“I thought lost him too, I almost did,” Aaron confessed, and all the exasperation melted away from Sean’s face to reveal mortification. “He was assisting on my case, I heard gunshots and I thought of the worst. A gun pointed at his head and shoots. I was luckily not too late and the bullet only scrapes his ear. I left him when he needed me. He had lost someone too that day instead of me losing him. I chose my work again but it’s...” Aaron takes a deep breath and exhale, trying to remind himself that Chris is at home, smearing honey on his face and making a bowl organic strawberry banana smoothie bowl with heartshaped jellies.

Aaron feels his heart a little lighter after imagining Chris’s self-care day. “I know now in the most painful way that losing my loved ones to play hero isn’t worth it. Never worth it. I don’t want to lose Chris too.” Gloom and doom as it seems, Aaron doesn’t feel so. All he imagined is Chris licking his lips from the honey that dripped into his mouth.

Sean doesn’t share the sentiment though. He rubs his face sighing. “That was my fault, I’m sorry I called you that.”

Registering what Sean said, his eyebrows knit together, “What are you talking about?”

Sean groans, “I called you that once. ‘Playing hero’. I’m sorry about that... You don’t remember?”

Aaron tried to look through his brain for the word. He found one. Sean never did came to Haley’s and Jack’s funeral. They met again when they’re both were on the last string of sanity. Things were said and they go their separate ways. Aaron tried to call and apologize, it goes straight to the mail 5 times. Aaron left a text instead, and the next one he receives from Sean is years later, asking to meet, and that’s when Sean met Chris for the first time.

Sean drags along his jaw then sighs, “I never did apologize to you huh?”

“It’s nothing. I knew we’re just-”

“Don’t excuse it, Aaron,” Sean cuts curtly. “I’m sorry, not just for belittling your job. For everything. Sorry for everything. For ghosting on you, and just...everything.”

The soft tone in his usually curt brother throws Aaron through the loop. He wonders what happened to Sean that makes him change so. Whatever it is, Aaron wasn't responsible. A little sad that Aaron doesn’t know how his little brother grew, but maybe in these times of mending, they’ll tell more about themselves.

“Funny, I was thinking the same thing about myself. I was not a good parental figure when you need it the most. I should’ve done better.”

Sean chuckles, “Maybe cuz you’re not supposed to be my parent. You did your best in that department, but you’re my brother, you’re the best one at that, I just never realized.”

Aaron inhales a deep breath, his smile soft as his heart becomes a goopy mess.

“Congratulations, he’s lucky to have you.” Sean pats him on the shoulder. “So you’re here just to tell me the good news?”

“And one other thing,” Aaron looks down, tapping on his ring, a bit nervous. “Will you be my best man?”

Sean blinks and soon, his smile is wide. Ear to ear, all teeth show, just like when he was a kid. “For real?”

“Yeah,” Aaron nods.

“I will... it’s an honor.”

Aaron walks out of Sean’s pub after a few hours of catching up and order a take out from him.

Today has been a surprise for Aaron, time to get a surprise for someone else.

-.-.-.-.-

It’s not that Chris is nervous... Noooo. Chris and Sean have put an understanding toward each other for the past year. Dare he says that he and Sean are becoming friends? Actually no, more like close acquaintances. Yeah...

Chris is nervous at how it’ll go with Aaron telling Sean and no manuka honey on his face and any cute smoothie bowls or Gabriel Iglesias stand up or even the big plushie cat Aaron gave him can unwind his nerves. Not until Aaron comes home, smelling like hearty food.

“Baby!” Chris jumps from his couch, Rosco the plushie abandoned. Chris wraps his arms around Aaron’s waist, “How did it go?”

“It’s great,” Aaron lay his head against Chris, and pat his back with one free hand. “I got take out from Sean’s.” Aaron raises his other hand.

“Awesome! You got my usual?”

“Yup.”

“Yay!”

Chris takes the bag out of Aaron’s and inspects the food.

“One more thing,” Aaron says.

“Yeah, darl-” Chris’s mouth stops when Aaron takes his hand and spot the other unoccupied hand holding a velvet box. Chris gasps when Aaron opens it in one hand. He’s vibrating when he realizes the dainty round diamond isn’t alone. Along the top half of the white gold band, between the diamond, are colorful gems. [Ring.](https://www.lajerrio.com/media/catalog/product/cache/1/image/9df78eab33525d08d6e5fb8d27136e95/8/1/810058-01.jpg)

“Aaron,” Chris breathed shakily, finally looking away from the ring to a shy smile from his fiance. 

“I wasn't looking at your blue smoothie yesterday, I was trying to figure out your ring size. Can I put it on you?”

“Yes! Oh my god yes,” Chris thrust his hand, and Aaron slips the ring to his finger. It fits like a glove, and Chris can’t stop mesmerizing at the pretty color in his ring. He figured that anything Aaron gives him will be awesome, but giving him a pretty out of the box ring like this? God, he wants to marry him now.

“I knew it,” Aaron says, getting Chris's attention away from the ring, “We have the same ring sizes.”

“That’s....” Chris chuckles, he doesn’t know what to say for once. “I love you, I love this.” Chris leans in, kissing him deeply, and the temperatures shoot through the roof when Aaron hooks a thumb under the band of his pants.

Chris knows he’s going to have a late dinner when his ass hits the counter and a pair of hands hook under his thighs and lift him to sit on the counter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my heart swells a bit.


	7. Find you. Find Me.

Aaron doesn’t get to step more than five times until someone notices. That person, of course, is Penelope Garcia.

A loud gasp stills the busy corridor, people look at who’s it from and goes on their way. Garcia however, points her teal blue nails at Aaron’s finger and her purple lips shake.

“Is-is-is-is that... are you...?”

Aaron smiles, amused, “Yes, Garcia?”

“Are you... does Chris... did he???” Garcia gesticulates wildly when no words are coming out of her lips.

“Yeees?” Aaron teases, can’t contain his smile from Garcia’s shock and his excitement.

Garcia whines, eyes doe and teary. Her heels clack loudly as she marches towards Hotch and wraps him in a tight hug when the words fail her. Hotch chuckles and pats her back.

“I’m so happy for you sir!” Garcia squeals, crushing Hotch even more with her tight grip that squeezes the air out of his lung.

“Uh, Garcia,” Hotch pats her back more firmly.

Garcia drops him immediately and steps back, “Oh my god sir I’m so sorry! But I’m... oh, sir!” Garcia whines again, wiping tears from her eyes.

“Hey, what’s with the waterworks?” Morgan said as he steps into the corridor from the elevator.

“THIS!” Garcia exclaimed, turning everyone towards them once again, but Garcia pulls Hotch’s hand up in the air, and now everyone can see what’s on his finger.

There’s a murmur of congratulation and Hotch nods at them, before being incapacitated with a big hug from Morgan, then Garcia joined in from behind. It’s a bizarre look for the office, but having Chris as his boyfriend, things like this don’t phase Hotch at all. He chuckles and pat’s Morgan’s shoulder.

“Man, I’m so happy for you. Who proposed?” Morgan asked once he lets go.

“I did, but then Chris the one that goes down on one knee.”

“That’s adorable,” Morgan smiles from ear to ear, “Did he do it in that park?”

“Yes, he did.”

For all the years they’ve worked together, Hotch had never seen Morgan turning into a melting goo like this.

“Let’s tell the rest of the gang!” Garcia says, linking arms with Hotch and he lets himself being pulled by the hand to the office, only for this special occasion.

Passed the glass door, JJ seems to look at the entire thing from it.

“What are you guys smiling about?” JJ approached, but then she looks down and her jaw dropped, “Wow! Look at that bling.”

“Wait, hold on...” Prentiss stood, eyes wide as she walks over with Reid and Rossi entails. Rossi whistled at the ring. “Did Chris proposed?”

“Yes, he did,” Hotch says.

The team whoops and cheers, a few other office workers there follows suit and throws their version of congratulation.

Word travels fast and he gets a text from his boss Erin Strauss and a few other executives to congratulate him for the engagement.

It’s good and all, but Aaron can’t help but think that it’s not important how many congratulations he gets. The one that comes from the team means a lot to him. Wearing a ring again feels different for him. Odd, but not a bad kind of odd. For a long time he had given up on ever wearing another ring, but the black tungsten ring in his finger says otherwise.

Occasionally, the ring would make itself known, whether it’s the chill from the steel or passing his eyesight. Then he’d remember Chris, remember the joy he had given for Aaron’s life, and the life together in the future. And when he did, Aaron felt like the day is more bearable.

Meanwhile in the 99th precinct.

Chris power walks to the room as the curtains(elevator door) unfolds. He strides with his hand up in the air, flashing his brand new fabulous ring.

“Attention bitches!” Chris’s voice booms across the room, getting all the people’s attention. He shakes his hand a little to let the light reflect and blinds them, “Look who just got engaged! This piece of ass is off the market!”

The room cheers and whoops and a band of familiar people charges over to Chris.

“I’m so happy for you Chris!” Amy says, hugging Chris’s torso and soon her husband followed.

“My weird quirky pan uncle is settling down! Who would’ve thought!” Jake says in his quirky manner and Chris flicks his forehead, “OW!”

“This calls for a celebration in Sean’s pub,” Rosa says, smirking and nodding at Chris, “Congrats man.”

“Let me see that ring in real-time,” Haily struts, and takes Chris’s hand. Of course, Haily knew first via chat the day Aaron put it on his finger. She smiles wide seeing the rainbow jewels there. Rosa did too.

“I won't kill him,” Rosa declares with a creepy smile, and that’s Rosa’s happy best approval.

“I agree, this ring is gorge, honey!” Haily still marvels at Chris’s ring.

“Chrissy Chrissy,” Gina calls, she comes to the circle and pushes Amy and Jake away then hugs him. “Congratulation my fabulous king, though I still think Sean is the superior brother, you just got the next best thing.”

Chris chuckles, rolling his eyes.

“I see that a congratulation is in order?” Captain Holt walks in, extending his hand, “Marriage life is a beautiful thing, and we truly live in luckier times that we can marry who we love. Congratulation Chris.”

“Oh come here, Raymond!” Chris says and pulls Captain Holt to a hug. He knew Captain Holt from before he became captain, they go way back. Holt even knew Matty.

“Matty would be proud,” Holt says, patting his back.

Chris’s eyes are gone teary once Holt said that, but he’s touched.

“Okay less crying more celebrating! Sean’s after hour?” Haily says and the gang cheers in agreement.

+++++

The dampness of the weather is kicking up the storm, Chris thought his sweating hand is that powerful, but no, it’s the weather AND his hand. Poor Aaron for having to hold his hand still, but Aaron rarely let's go from his house and now till the front door of Haily’s home, the Jules household.

Chris has nothing to fear. He comes with gifts for Christmas instead of sending them via delivery, and Haily makes sure that her family holds no grudge against him for not visiting nor calling enough.

“You can do this, Chris,” Aaron encouraged and kisses the side of his cheek.

“Aww!” squeal a dim voice. Chris and Aaron whip their heads towards the window but it disappeared behind the moving curtain.

Chris knows exactly who it is, and his heart feels lighter at it. He rings the bell, and he doesn’t need to wait more than two seconds for the door to open.

Gunner (Yes that’s his name) Jules has his age on his face, and Chris wants to weep because young Gunner had been an active beefy country friendly man and now he looks skinnier in his usual red plaids while his usual buzz cut now growing a bald spot. Holly Jules however, barely aged a day. Her black hair with strands of white coils down to her ear. Her dark skin as vibrant and glowing as it did when the family had a picnic at the back of Matty’s garden. Then Gunter, Holly and Gunner’s biological son, now is taller than Chris. Haily is at the further back, smiling ear to ear when Chris’s eyes are watering.

All the excuse he had now felt dumb in his mind. He missed them so much, how did he ever push them away?

“Oh darling,” Says Holly in her usual motherly tone as she wraps him in a hug.

“C’mere sonny,” Gunner hugs his other side, kissing Chris on the side of the temple.

“Hey man, you look old!” Teased Gunter as he covers the bundle into one.

“Take that back!” Chris says, “I don’t look a day out of my 21st birthday.”

“Yeah more like 41st.”

“Gunter!” Scold his mother, and Gunter chuckles good-heartedly.

“Ay I’m jokin’ man, you didn’t change since I last saw you and it’s kind of creepy,” Gunter pats him at the back before unwrapping them from the wholesome hug.

Now is a good time than any, “I’m sorry, all of you... I-”

“None of that now kid,” Gunner cuts in a heavy Texan accent, wrapping Chris’s shoulder with his arm.

“And you must be Aaron Hotchner, good to finally meet you in person,” Holly says, redirecting the attention to Aaron instead of Chris’s tears.

Aaron flashes a fond smile that makes Chris’s tears dry and his heart melting. Aaron extends his hand to shake hands, “Good morning, it’s good to see you-”

“Oh my!” Holly cuts, pulling Aaron’s hand and turning it to the backside, showing the ring. She takes a few seconds of pause and the gears start turning for the three Jules as they see the ring. “Are you Chris’s fiance?” Holly’s eyes widen.

“Yes I am, it’s good to see all of you,” Aaron confirms.

The three pause except for Haily that’s snickering quietly in the background. The three looks at Chris for confirmation and Chris smiles cheekily as he raises his hand with the ring.

“We’re engaged!” Chris declares, radiating happiness that he’s been feeling ever since Aaron asks him to marry him.

Holly squeals, fists shaking and arms opening to hug the engaged couple. In their arms, she jumped cheerfully. She retracts and frames Chris’s face like she did when Chris was little, and the last one was the day Chris moved out of her house. The tears in her eyes are mirrored by Chris’s eyes. Chris can see himself in her deep black eyes. How time has flown. His reflection used to look so young and way too sad.

“My baby is getting married,” Holly says affectionately and kisses each of his cheeks. She then extends her hand to grip Aaron by the shoulder, “You take care of my baby, alright! Or a world of hurt will come to ya!”

“Holly!” Chris exclaimed, but Aaron doesn’t look intimidated.

“I promise,” Aaron says, looking just as smitten. Holly finds what she’s looking for and soften her gaze then kisses Aaron’s cheeks as well.

“Sis! Why didn’t you tell us about this?” Gunter said scandalously.

“And miss the dramatic reveal? Nuh-uh,” Haily giggles.

“I think it’s lovely that you tell us personally and bringing your honey-boo to our home,” Holly lean her head to Chris’s shoulder, she then holds Aaron’s hand and squeezes. “Welcome to our humble abode, I hope you’re hungry, we made a lot of food.”

“Thank you for welcoming me to your house,” Aaron nods and smiles that killer shy and handsome smile. Chris got a love arrow through his heart, and Holly got shot too as she clutches her chest and chuckles like a giggly school girl, along with Gunter.

“You got such a looker in your hand!” Gunner pats Chris’s back and chuckles heartily.

“Please tell me he got a sister or a brother,” Gunter whispered.

“Gunter!” Haily scolds and slaps his biceps. Gunter just cackling away.

They eat their lunch and Chris is hit with another wave of nostalgia. Chris’s teen years are filled with Holly’s cooking and her homey dining room table. Their conversation cheerful and as easy as it was back then, but the difference now is that Chris is in a good place enough to appreciate this. Back then, Chris’s sorrow, mourn, and depression had held him back from feeling this warm table.

They catch up, which isn’t that much since they called pretty regularly. Everyone’s attention is drawn like a moth to light when Gunner says, ‘So, FBI agent huh?’. They’ve known what Aaron does, because when they’ve met over video calls, Aaron was called a few minutes later.

They’ve known Chris’s rows of partners from all kinds of working field. So after Gunner says that Gunter adds, “Anyone has that on Chris’s lover bingo?” Chris burst out laughing, he forgot that was a thing!

After lunch, the sun is starting to go down at 4 pm outside, and the couple bid the family goodbye to walk next door.

Once again, they stand in front of the door while Chris’s clammy hands are holding Aaron’s. It’s been so long since he steps into this front porch. The fencing is rotting, and the front yard where Chris’s flowers used to thrive is all gone, dead, and turned to compost. The paints are chipping. It used to be bright pastel orange. There used to be little pots by the porch too, some hanging from the ceiling. The pots are gone too now.

“Chris?” Aaron asks, snapping Chris out of a trance. “We don’t have to go in today,” Aaron compromised, but Chris shakes his head.

“I’m fine, it’s just...” Chris looks back, mourning his garden.

The flowers used to be his labor of love. Chris used to think the flowers in Matty’s garden symbolize that the good things in life need to be nurtured in order to have them, it reminded him to take care of himself, because it was a struggle to do back then. He looks at the door, it used to be red but it had lost its saturation.

“It’s just nostalgia,” Chris says, and sighs dejectedly, “I’m supposed to take care of this house.”

Aaron leans his head on Chris’s shoulder, thumbs rubbing circle at the back of his hand, “You’re here now, Matty would understand.”

Chris nods and opens the door with the key that Gunner gave him before they left. They hold their breath as they open the door, but inside isn’t as dusty as they’d think. They’re greeted immediately by the kitchen on their left that acts also as a dining room. Their right, the living room. The sofa and all the chairs and desks are covered by a plastic tarp. All the kitchen utensils were brought with Chris when he moved out, and the TV sold. On the back of this room is a little hallway to the right for two small bedrooms, and to the left is a bathroom and stairs to the second floor for the master bedroom.

Chris had felt that this room is way too small, like the walls caving in. Now adult Chris looking at the three-bedroom house and the yard that surrounds them, it’s a pretty decently moderate house. Matty’s grandfather bought this house back when it was still dirt cheap, now this land would sell for a fortune. Like retirement money fortune. That’s the thing, maybe he should sell the house, he’s barely here anyway, and he’s been keeping the house for sentimental reason.

“Can I...?” Chris says.

“Sure,” Aaron nods, understanding whatever it is Chris didn’t say. He left a peck on his cheek and let go of his hand, “I’ll check upstairs, is that okay?”

Chris nods and Aaron disappears upstairs. Chris went down memory lane as he turns to the right corridor to his room. At the end of the corridor of the right, at the end is his door, at the right is an empty room and the left is the door to the backyard. The door to the backyard has a glass window, and it shows the barren land that used to be flourishing with Matty’s vegetable garden. The patio on the back made of wood has holes in a few spots, and the rattan chairs no longer there.

Chris opens the door to his room, inside is as barren and empty as the rest of the house. Upon moving out, Chris sold every menial thing he can sell because he was in dire need of money. The only thing in his old room now is a small cupboard and study desk that was so badly formed that no one would buy it, both of them covered in a tarp. The walls have old posters Chris didn’t take down. Like Backstreetboys, Britney spears, and Metallica, yeah Chris has a lot of phases there. The side of the wall where his bed used to be is a graffiti of Britney spears made by 20-year-old Chris. He really loved Brittney Spears.

He picks up the tarp only partially so he could get to the compartment on his study desk. There it is, his diary from when he was seventeen through his early twenties. It’s a bit thick and it’s originally a journal gifted by his teacher as a mock gift because Chris missed so much homework.

Chris takes the book to the back patio, stepping away from the center of the patio since it’s fragile. He sits down on the edge of the patio, opening the book and blasted back to two decades ago. The content of the diary was anything but pretty. Young Chris had a lot of problems. Being bullied, getting into fights that finally prevent them from being bullied, his hoe phase, getting detentions, depression, down to self-harm, and suicidal thoughts. There are a few pages that have his blood on them. It’s gross but now Chris just chuckles at it.

If only young Chris knew where he’d be today. Having a job he likes, friends that accept him, and the coolest kindest loving boyfriend ever. Well, _fiance_ , how about that, Chris used to think that no one would ever settle for him. Chris can’t help but feel a weird feeling of fondness towards his young self. He used to want to end it all, but he’s here now, and he can’t believe that he is _glad_ that he didn’t just... end it all.

Chris takes a deep breath, looking at the barren garden basks in the sunset light. He thought he’d have to fight a panic attack when he decided to come to visit this house. It’s been more than ten years since he last steps into this house. There must be a lot of change Chris didn’t realize because all he felt now is a fondness of the past. He used to feel that everything here reminds him of being hurt, but now Chris can look at this place and appreciate the memory here, both good and bad. This place isn’t just a place of hurting, this is Chris's first family, a place where he’s in a process of healing. The start of his freedom.

This house no longer pains him. He wasn't in a good place, and Matty is gone, that’s fine. Because Chris has more to look forward to, he can see that now, all he needed was time, decades might it be.

The backdoor opens, Aaron steps out of it and Chris pat the space beside him.

“What’s that?” Aaron asks as he lowers down to sit.

“My diary when I was a teenager. It’s filled to the brim with angst,” Chris looks at it fondly then closing it to put aside. “So what do you think of the house?”

“It’s not as small as you said it would be.”

“Yeah I think so too, guess someone’s psyche can mess with perception? I don't know...” Chris takes a deep breath, “I should sell this house, shouldn’t I?”

Aaron takes a pause, his eyes narrow in wonder, “Why should you?”

“I don’t come here a lot,” Chris mumbles, “Once a year I paid someone to weed the yard and dust the inside and air it out, and by someone I meant Gunner.”

Aaron hums, and presses their shoulders together, “Whether or not you should depend whether or not you want to and why. So, what do you want to do?”

“I kept this house for sentimentality, and... I don’t know. I thought I’d be in a wreck, but I... I just missed this place a lot.” A light bulb shines above his head. He straightened his back, head up as he looks at the empty and dry back garden with hope, “I think I want to move back in here.”

Aaron’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, “Really? Isn’t this a bit far from your workplace?”

Chris shrugged, “Matty made it work, and back then my school was far from here too, and I made it work too. I woke up early anyway.”

Aaron nods, “The house is still in good condition, just a bit of furnishing and repainting and it’ll be livable again.” His boyfriend pats the patio underneath, “And redo this patio, the wood is about to give in.”

“And I’d grow my flowers again!” Chris cheers, his heart filled with buds of what’s to come, “It’ll be great!”

Aaron smiles softly at him, and Chris turns to a puddle, “This house is closer to my work too, I can take my car instead of the train.”

Chris gasps and claps, “Awesome! We’d be even closer to each other.” A hum came before Aaron pauses, Chris senses there’s more there. “What? What is it?”

“If I take the toll road, BAU is only twenty minutes from here.”

Chris’s smile then drops and his jaw drops to his lap. He’s starting to understand what Aaron is going for, wait is it? Hold on.

“Aaron, you want to move in with me? Here?”

“Yes,” Aaron looks down to their feet, then to Chris, “Can I?”

“YES!” Chris yells, he can’t believe Aaron had to ask that. His hand lands on top of Aaron’s and squeezes, “Yes,” Chris breathed, a smile creeping up his face and Aaron quickly mirror his. His excitement then toned down, suddenly he looks at his house with a new perspective, “But what about kids?”

Aaron’s eyebrows rises, “What _about_ kids?”

“Is this house enough for kids? Um, is it too small or... I don’t know what they’d need in a house!” Chris blurts out in panic.

Aaron chuckles, bumping his head with Chris’s, “I raised Jack in an apartment, this house has more than enough. A backyard to play with and I think we just passed a park, right? It’ll be great if we have kids.” Aaron leans back, looking at Chris right in the eyes with those heart eyes and the olive tint is more prominent in the sunset light for extra damage as he says, “But most of all, I just want to come home to you.”

Had his limbs not turned to jelly he would clench his chest from that cute ass confession. No, Chris does something cringier, he burst into tears. From Sahara desert to Niagara falls in a snap, but can anyone blame him. His other hand is on top of his angsty diary. It makes Chris all the more grateful for being able to live out that phase in his life. He’d never trade his life for anything. Life did get turned out, and he _is_ lovable.

Chris link his arms around Aaron’s torso and hug the living out of him. Aaron rubs his back up and down, kissing the top of his head.

“I’d want nothing more in the world than having a home with you,” Chris says, and when Chris leans back, it’s Aaron’s turn to teared up, and Aaron manages to make crying a pretty thing, which both isn’t fair and makes Chris wants to kiss the ever-living life out of him.

They chuckle at their messy state and sits at the patio talking about the renovation to the home, when to move in, and eventually, their wedding. The whole dawn they spent planning for their future together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and that's all kids! I dunno if there's anymore after this, but it's a pretty good place to end, ain't it?

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me what you think!
> 
> Open to critics. Comments and Kudos if you like this~
> 
>   
> [find me on tumblr!](https://emotionalcello-makefanfics.tumblr.com/)


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